[BRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL IFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


FRIEND    OLIVIA 


FRIEND  OLIVIA 


BY 


AMELIA    E.   BARR 

AUTHOR  OF  "  JAN  VEDDER's  WIFE,"  "  A  DAUGHTER  OF  FIFE,"   "  THE  BOW 

OF  ORANGE   RIBBON,"  "  THE   BORDER   SHEPHERDESS," 

"  THB  HOUSEHOLD  OF  MCNEIL,"  ETC 


"Breathe  on  us  for  the  passing  day 
The  charm  of  ancient  story." 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD,   AND    COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


•     Copyright,  1889-90, 
BY  THE  CENTURY  Co. 


All  rights  reserved. 


PS 


TO 

STfje  S0netg  of  Jrimtog  fn 

I  INSCRIBE  THIS  VOLUME. 

AMELIA    E.    BARR. 
1890 


CROMWELL,  our  chief  of  men,  who  through  a  cloud 
Not  of  war  only,  but  detractions  rude, 
Guided  by  faith  and  matchless  fortitude, 
To  peace  and  truth  thy  glorious  way  hast  plough'd, 

And  on  the  neck  of  Fortune  proud 

Hast  rear'd  God's  trophies,  and  his  work  persued, 
While  Darvven  stream  with  blood  of  Scots  imbrued 
And  Dunbar  field  resound  thy  praises  loud, 

And  Worcester's  laureate  wreath.     Yet  much  remains 
To  conquer  still ;    Peace  hath  her  victories 
No  less  renowned  than  War :  new  foes  arise 

Threatening  to  bind  our  souls  with  secular  chains : 
Help  us  to  save  free  conscience  from  the  paw 
Of  hireling  wolves,  whose  gospel  is  their  maw :  — 
Cromwell  our  chief  of  men ! 

JOHN  MILTON. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  •       PAGE 

I.  THE  KELDERS  OF  KELDERBY 'I 

II.  BLAME  THYSELF 17 

III.  "THE  WAY  TO  REST" 37 

IV.  JOHN  DE  BURG 61 

V.  ANASTASIA  AND  OLIVIA 79 

VI.  SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET 99 

VII.  DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE 117 

VIII.  THE  KING'S  SERVANTS 138 

IX.  THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA 159 

X.  A  MEETING 188 

XI.  OLIVIA  AND  CROMWELL 207 

XII.  ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE 234 

XIII.  OLIVIA  AND  ANASTASIA  WANTED      .    .    .  251 

XIV.  JOHN  RECKONS  WITH  CHENAGE     ....  272 
XV.  IN  APPLEBY  JAIL 294 

XVI.  MISTRESS  OF  CHENAGE 311 

XVII.  PARTING    . 337 

XVIII.  JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE 371 

XIX.  ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE 392 

XX.  FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE 415 

XXI.  KELDERBY  AND  SANDYS    .......  435 


FRIEND     OLIVIA. 


i. 

THE  KELDERS   OF   KELDERBY. 

w  Though  God  as  one  that  is  an  householder 
Called  these  to  labour  in  his  vineyard  first, 
Before  the  husk  of  darkness  was  well  burst ; 

though  the  worst 

Burthen  of  heat  was  theirs,  and  the  dry  thirst ; 
Though  God  has  since  found  none  such  as  these  were 
To  do  their  work  like  them  :  because  of  this, 
Stand  ye  not  idle  in  the  market-place." 

WHEN  Oliver  Cromwell  held  the  sceptre  of  Eng 
land,  Odinel  Kelder  was  baron  of  Kelderby  and 
Swaffham.  He  was  not  ignorant  of  the  ancestors  who 
had  mingled  his  clay  and  tempered  the  spirit  within  him. 
For  seven  hundred  years  he  knew  their  names  and  their 
deeds.  The  farthest  away  of  whom  he  had  knowledge 
he  spoke  of  as  "  my  fore-elder  Jahl,"  and  owned  the  pe 
culiar  blessings  of  his  lot  to  be  the  result  of  Jahl's  nobility 
of  nature  and  of  his  adventurous  spirit. 

For  Jahl  Kelder  had  been  one  of  that  earliest  band 
of  pilgrims  who,  to  escape  the  tyranny  of  Harald  Haar- 
fager,  sought  liberty  of  mind  and  person  among  the  eter 
nal  snows  of  Iceland.  A  few  years  later  Jahl  joined 
his  friend  Toddi,  or  Dodd,  in  that  southward  search  for 
a  fairer  home  which  resulted  in  their  settlement  on  the 
shores  of  Cumberland  and  in  the  dales  of  Westmore- 


2  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

land.  Toddi  found  the  Whitehaven,  and  bought  from 
the  monks  of  St.  Bees  the  great  woods  and  lonely  dak  s 
stretching  back  to  Ennerdale.  Jahl  reached  the  solitary 
seaward  stretches  of  Silverdale,  the  very  region  of  mystic 
forgetfulness,  with  its  rounded  hills  and  wooded  wastes, 
and  its  great  expanse  of  ribbed  and  wrinkled  sand-flats,  — 
a  dim,  misty  sea,  where  the  flood  glides  up  to  the  land 
swift  and  treacherous,  or,  beaten  by  conflicting  winds, 
is  white  with  phantom  foam  and  vexed  with  spray  and 
spindrift. 

Behind  him  was  a  waste  of  sullen  moss  and  craggy 
mounds,  —  unfruitful  solitudes  so  bare  and  desolate  that 
he  called  them  Hardanger,  the  old  Norse  name  for  a 
place  of  hunger  and  poverty.  But  Jahl  asked  little  of  the 
land ;  he  looked  to  the  sea.  It  raced  round  its  numer 
ous  promontories,  and  lay  sleeping  in  its  bays  ;  and  he 
saw  the  gray  wings  of  his  ships  peopling  the  pallid  waste. 
They  were  his  hands ;  they  would  reach  him  the  good 
things  that  were  not  within  his  grasp.  He  built  his  big 
stone  hall  on  the  height  of  Silver  Scar ;  and  the  lonely 
land,  and  the  misty  waves  bowling  in  and  out  of  the  fog, 
became  dear  to  him. 

Once  his  friend  Toddi  sailed  southward  to  keep  a 
feast  with  him,  and  he  said,  "  Jahl  thou  art  not  wise  to 
build  so  high ;  every  wind  of  heaven  will  smite  thee." 

But  Jahl  answered,  "  This  is  what  I  think,  Toddi,  — 
the  birds  that  build  on  the  ground  make  very  poor 
nests." 

Jahl  built  for  his  generations.  They  sat  in  his  place, 
and  trod  in  his  footsteps,  and  kept  his  memory  green. 
They  married  into  the  great  Saxon  families  of  Swaffham 
and  Millom,  and  twice  the  Norman  De  Burgs  added  the 
quicksilver  of  their  race  to  the  life  stream  of  the  Scandi 
navian  stock ;  and  as  one  or  the  other  of  the  race  dis- 


THE  KELDERS  OF  KELDERBY.  3 

tinctions  predominated,  so  was  the  Kelder  of  his  day. 
In  the  course  of  seven  centuries  the  original  stone  hall 
had  become  a  fine  seat.  Not  that  all  the  Kelders  had 
been  wise  life-tenants  of  it,  but  that  the  potency  of  the 
Saxon  element  had  been  frequent  enough  to  repair  losses 
and  accumulate  capital.  So  that  at  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  century  the  Kelders  were  one  of  the  great 
families  of  the  North  Country. 

Odinel,  the  nineteenth  of  his  name,  differed  widely 
from  his  ancestor  Jahl ;  but  the  differences  were  mainly 
in  the  inner  man.  Outwardly  he  had  the  great  Norse 
frame,  the  lofty  stature,  and  the  blond  complexion  of  his 
northern  kin.  His  mother  had  been  a  De  Burg,  but  he 
owed  nothing  to  her,  except  the  high-bred  nose  and  the 
haughty  upper  lip  of  the  Norman  race.  He  had  a  large 
compact  forehead,  eyes  like  tempered  steel,  shining  with 
a  steady  gleam,  a  square  chin,  a  firm  mouth,  and  a  man 
ner  at  once  benignant  and  austere,  —  the  manner  of  a 
true  liegeman  of  Duty,  kind,  faithful,  and  intrepid.  If  he  . 
clasped  hands  it  was  with  a  flesh-and-blood  warmth  of 
grip ;  if  he  smiled,  it  was  with  the  large,  clear  sincerity 
of  a  man  without  guile.  He  had  the  heartiness  of  the 
Norse  nature,  the  breadth  of  the  Norse  imagination,  and 
the  refreshing  atmosphere  of  one  who  lived  in  the  open 
air,  who  went  alone  into  the  heart  of  the  mists  and  into 
the  silence  of  the  starry  sky,  who  knew  the  visionary 
majesties  of  the  mountains,  and  the  pale,  pensive  glooms 
of  the  valleys,  and  who  loved  the  flavour  of  the  brine  and 
the  damp  fresh  air  of  the  northern  ocean. 

He  was  sixty  years  of  age,  and  he  had  played  the  man 
in  Israel  on  every  battlefield  for  liberty  from  long  Mars- 
ton  Moor  to  Worcester.  Life  had  been  a  stirring  story 
to  him.  He  was  sitting  one  evening  very  quietly  on  his 
hearthstone  talking  it  over  with  the  man  within  him. 


4  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

This  mighty  /  was  truth  itself.  It  told  him  plainly  that 
at  Marston  he  might  have  been  more  merciful ;  that  at 
Dunbar,  in  that  great  strait  between  the  sea  and  the 
Lammermuirs,  he  might  have  been  more  trustful;  that 
in  the  red  streets  of  Worcester  he  might  have  been  more 
just.  And  he  was  humbled  amid  his  valiant  memories, 
silently  appealing  from  the  accuser  to  Him  who  had  made 
the  atonement. 

The  tall  black  chair  in  which  he  sat  had  been  the 
baron's  own  for  generations.  One  foot  was  on  its  foot 
stool,  the  other  pressed  down  the  soft  white  wool  of  the 
hearthrug ;  his  left  hand  lay  upon  the  basket  hilt  of  his 
long  rapier,  his  right  hand  shaded  his  eyes,  his  fine  head 
drooped  slightly  forward.  But  though  silent  and  motion 
less,  he  was  not  alone.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  rug 
Lady  Kelder  was  spinning  flax.  The  little  black  wheel, 
richly  carved  and  tipped  with  silver,  was  at  her  knee,  and 
between  it  and  the  snowy  flax  her  white  hands  made 
monotonously  graceful  movements.  She  wore  a  dress  of 
black  silk  with  a  lawn  kerchief  pinned  across  her  breast, 
and  a  black-silk  hood  lined  with  white  fell  slightly  back 
ward  from  her  white  hair.  A  handsome  woman,  of  an 
unchanging  countenance,  compact  and  conscious,  who 
knew  what  she  meant  and  what  she  wanted  and  in  what 
she  believed. 

But  though  she  spoke  not  she  glanced  frequently 
toward  her  husband  ;  and  presently  he  caught  her  glance, 
and  a  loving  smile  flashed  echo-like  from  face  to  face. 
Then  she  said,  — 

"  Nathaniel  stays  away  so  much  longer  than  was  spoken 
of.  What  think  you,  dear  heart?  " 

"  I  think,  Joan,  that  he  will  have  business  to  be  his 
excuse.  Between  here  and  London  are  many  hard 
miles." 


THE  K ELDERS  OF  KELDERBY,  5 

"  And  also  he  may  come  by  Kendal.  Our  cousin  De 
Burg  has  a  very  fair  daughter.  I  have  heard  that 
Anastasia  has  bettered  all  expectations  of  her  beauty; 
she  may  be  reason  enough  to  stay  even  a  wise  man." 

"  Anastasia  has  Charles  Stuart  in  all  her  thoughts.  A 
Puritan  gentleman  is  her  mock,  and  nothing  else.  What 
agreement  can  there  be  between  her  and  our  son?  " 

"  In  troth  and  peace  love  has  no  politics.  Any  side 
will  suit  him." 

"  Nathaniel's  politics  are  the  complexion  of  his  creed. 
Joan,  think  not  evil  of  your  son." 

"  As  for  creeds,  he  may  take  to  one  you  think  not  of. 
There  is  a  beaten  path  now  between  Kelderby  and  San 
dys,  and  Mistress  Prid  —  " 

"  Mistress  Prideaux  is  a  Quakeress.  Dear  Joan,  keep 
a  rein  on  your  thoughts.  Nathaniel  will  give  you  a  bet- 
terly  sort  of  daughter  than  that." 

"  I  have  the  fear  in  my  heart  day  and  night,  —  a  fear 
unfaceable.  There  are  things  I  would  never  submit  to ; 
that  is  one  of  them.  A  Quakeress  in  Kelderby  1  God 
forbid  ! " 

"  Calmly,  Joan.     T  is  said  they  have  spiritual  gifts." 

"  What  is  the  Protector  doing  to  suffer  them  ?  I  would 
he  were  more  faithful  to  the  truth." 

"  A  Quaker  may  privately  enjoy  his  conscience,  in  both 
opinion  and  practice ;  sure  that  is  but  reason.  As  for 
Nathaniel,  I  think  he  is  such  a  man  as  will  take  his  own 
way  if  it  sorts  with  his  faith  and  duty." 

He  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  began  to  walk  slowly  about 
the  long  low  room,  for  the  housekeeper,  Jael,  and  a  serv 
ing-man  had  entered;  and  the  woman  put  aside  Lady 
Kelder's  spinning,  and  the  man  began  to  lay  the  table  for 
the  evening  meal.  Jael  was  a  noticeable  woman  fifty 
years  old,  fresh  and  sturdy,  the  right  hand  of  her  mistress 


6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

in  all  domestic  concerns,  the  loyal  friend  of  the  Kelders, 
bound  so  willingly  by  the  kindly  traditions  of  many  gen 
erations.  She  pushed  the  logs  together  "and  added  fresh 
ones,  and  then  straightening  herself  watched  for  a  mo 
ment  the  arrangement  of  the  fine  pewter  service  upon 
the  table.  This  being  satisfactory,  she  turned  so  as  to 
face  her  mistress  and  said,  — 

"  My  Lady,  Susan  of  Lambrigg  and  Jock  the  second 
shepherd  want  to  marry ;  it  puts  me  about  a  bit." 

"  It  is  a  fit  marriage,  I  think,  Jael." 

"  True,  my  Lady,  but  not  a  fit  time,  with  the  spring 
cleaning  to  do  in  Kelderby,  and  the  sheep  casting  their 
lambs  on  every  fellside.  It  is  n't  reasonable.  But  what 
signifies  talking?  You  can't  think  what  a  couple  of  fools 
they  be.  They  stand  to  wedding  through  thick  and 
thin." 

"Then  wedding  it  will  have  to  be.  Dear  me,  Jael, 
how  girls  will  run  into  trouble!  Is  it  raining?" 

"  Dreeping  wet,  and  very  airy ;  the  wind  being  nor'ard 
and  weet'ard.  You  can  hear  the  billow-bluster  at  the  foot 
of  the  Scar." 

"  Your  young  master  is  somewhere  on  the  road  between 
here  and  London.  I  pray  God  he  come  to  no  ill." 

"  111  keeps  its  own  road,  my  Lady,  and  my  young  mas 
ter  is  never  found  on  it.  He  '11  be  here  anon.  Perhaps," 
—  and  she  stooped  to  move  the  logs  as  she  spoke, — 
"perhaps  he  is  safe  at  Sandys." 

"Jael!" 

"  Yes,  my  Lady ;  facts  will  be." 

"  Facts  give  way  to  stronger  facts.  See  that  all  the 
men  and  maids  come  in  to  prayers.  Some  have  made  a 
breach  in  the  good  custom  lately.  I  will  have  them 
all  in." 

"  Speak  to  them  yourself,  my  Lady ;  it  will  be  a  long 


THE  KELDERS  OF  KELDERBY.  / 

way  better.  They  have  been  backening  badly  in  every 
right  thing  lately.  I  am  often  hard  set  to  manage 
them." 

At  this  moment  supper  was  served,  and  Jael  threw  a 
lamb's-wool  shawl  around  her  lady's  shoulders  and  placed 
her  seat  at  the  table. 

In  the  midst  of  the  meal  she  saw  a  sudden  change  on 
the  face  of  the  serving-man.  The  loutish  chaos  of  his 
countenance  coloured  into  life,  and  a  gleam,  of  pleasure 
brightened  his  pale  eyes.  He  had  heard  a  footstep  that 
no  one  else  had  heard,  and  the  pasty  in  his  hand  was 
only  saved  from  a  fall  by  his  mistress's  look  of  sharp  in 
quiry.  Before  a  word  could  be  said  the  door  opened 
with  a  swift,  noiseless  movement,  and  Captain  Nathaniel 
Kelder  entered. 

No  one  could  have  been  more  welcome ;  but  there  was 
a  calm  gravity  in  his  manner  which  repressed  any  extrav 
agant  demonstration  of  feeling.  Lady  Kelder,  however, 
had  a  kiss  and  a  whispered  word  of  tenderness  whicn 
brought  tears  of  joy  to  her  eyes,  and  the  baron  such  a 
grasp  and  glance  as  interprets  the  greeting  of  kindred 
souls.  Then  the  meal  was  finished  to  that  hurry  of  gen 
eral  conversation  which  usually  follows  an  arrival;  it 
flitted  here  and  there,  to  persons  and  things  and  events, 
but  touched  none  of  the  real  subjects  of  interest  until 
prayers  were  over  and  the  servants  dismissed  with  the 
usual  blessing,  — 

'•'  God  be  with  you,  each  and  all !  " 

"  And  with  you  and  yours,  Master." 

The  head  man  lingered  a  few  minutes  to  render  his  ac 
count  and  to  receive  orders  for  the  following  day,  and 
during  this  interval  Lady  Kelder  looked  with  a  fond  spec 
ulation  at  her  son.  She  thought  of  his  cousin  Anastasia 
de  Burg,  and  of  lovely  Mistress  Prideaux,  and  wondered 


8  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

if  he  really  was  in  love  with  either.  She  never  doubted 
but  both  were  in  love  with  Nathaniel.  If  this  opinion 
wanted  any  confirmation  in  her  mind,  she  found  it  in 
stantly  in  the  beauty  of  the  young  man,  leaning  with 
unstudied  grace  against  the  high  chimney-piece  of  black 
oak. 

It  has  long  been  the  false  and  silly  fashion  to  ridicule 
the  Puritan  garb;  it  is  now  full  time  to  acknowledge 
that  Puritan  gentlemen  were  dressed  gracefully  and  pict 
uresquely  and  in  the  most  perfect  sobriety  of  good  taste. 
They  thought  that  dark  or  black  garments  were  fittest  for 
grave  and  earnest  men.  We  are  now  all  of  the  same 
opinion.  They  thought  laces,  perfumes,  and  jewelry 
marks  of  vanity  and  foppishness.  Every  true  gentleman 
in  Christendom  now  thinks  with  them.  They  thought  it 
more  rational  to  cut  their  hair  a  comfortable  length  than 
to  wear  it  in  womanish  curls  down  the  back.  What  sen 
sible  man  of  to-day  will  contradict  them  ?  High  Church 
men  who  still  delight  to  nickname  them  "  Roundheads  " 
make  a  point  of  cutting  their  own  hair  much  closer.  Yes, 
even  in  the  matter  of  dress,  the  Puritan  was  wise  and 
brave  beyond  his  time. 

Nathaniel  Kelder  could  have  chosen  no  dress  more 
becoming,  even  if  dress  had  been  a- subject  about  which 
he  was  troubled.  His  jack-boots  covered  his  knees; 
his  breeches  were  of  black  leather  dressed  until  it  was 
as  soft  as  velvet ;  his  dark  doublet  showed  undersleeves 
of  white  linen ;  and  round  his  neck  was  a  scarf  of  fine 
lawn  broidered  at  the  edge  with  a  band  of  needlework, 
done  by  his  mother's  fingers.  He  was  very  tall,  and  had 
a  bright,  spiritual  face  set  in  soft  brown  hair,  —  a  face  so 
fine  that  it  gave  the  impression  of  being  formed  of  some 
rarer  thing  than  flesh  and  blood.  A  smile  made  it  lumi 
nous.  His  gray  eyes  were  large  and  dreamy,  the  down- 


THE  KELDERS  Of  KELDERBY.  9 

ward  sweep  of  the  eyebrows  toward  the  lashes  of  the 
eyes  when  they  were  raised  indicating  not  only  a  tender 
heart,  but  a  disposition  to  melancholy.  A  mouth  of  great 
refinement,  candid  and  loyal,  softened  the  threat  of  his 
resolute  chin ;  and  he  had  an  air  of  distinction  which  was 
not  consequent  alone  to  the  condition  of  his  good  birth, 
but  was  partly  the  result  of  acquired  self-restraint. 
Nathaniel  Kelder  had  the  mastery  over  his  spiritual  man. 
He  could  cross  his  will  without  a  mutiny. 

It  was  a  relief  to  the  family  when  the  door  was  closed 
upon  them  and  they  could  speak  freely  together ;  for  ser 
vants  if  more  faithful  in  those  days  were  not  less  curious, 
and  Master  Nathaniel's  journey  to  London  had  been  a 
matter  of  speculation  among  them. 

"There  be  a  woman  in  it,"  the  head  man  said  among 
his  fellows  ;  "  there  be  a  woman  in  it.  I  met  De  Burg's 
man  in  Kendal  market,  and  I  dilly-dallied  an  hour  with 
him,  talking  of  Mistress  De  Burg  and  what  gentlemen 
were  her  servants  now ;  but  at  the  long  end,  what  signi 
fied  ?  He  let  no  light  into  things.  I  could  make  nought 
of  him,  back  nor  edge." 

"  You  had  much  to  do  to  name  young  master  with 
Mistress  De  Burg,  —  a  proud-souled  madam  that  is  hey- 
go-mad  for  the  Stuarts  and  their  kind." 

"  There  's  no  need  to  be  put  about,  Jael.  It  breaks 
no  squares  to  say  that  whether  Stuart  or  Cromwell  be 
master,  we  be  servants ;  and  I  do  think  that  young 
master  have  been  in  London  about  the  De  Burgs. 
It  '11  turn  out  so,  you  '11  see  it  will." 

Primitive  natures  who  trust  to  their  natural  instincts 
are  rarely  mistaken.  Nathaniel  Kelder  had  been  to 
London  in  the  interest  of  the  De  Burgs.  For  although 
the  friendship  between  the  families  had  been  broken 
by  political  differences,  the  tie  of  kinship  was  of  stronger 


IO  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

stuff;  and  when  De  Burg  was  threatened  by  the  law, 
and  his  lands  in  danger  of  confiscation,  Kelder  had 
voluntarily  offered  himself  as  his  cousin's  security. 

"What  success,  Nathaniel?"  he  asked. 

"  Better  than  was  to  be  hoped  for,  Father.  I  had 
two  interviews  with  the  Lord  Protector,  and  at  the  first 
moment  he  remembered  you.  He  said,  '  Kelder's  word 
is  bond  for  a  dukedom ; '  and  then  he  asked  how  you 
fared,  and  anon  he  turned  to  his  desk  and  wrote  some 
what  concerning  the  business ;  afterward  he  bid  me 
dine  that  night  at  the  palace." 

"What  think  you  of  him  now?" 

"  What  I  ever  have  thought.  There  is  no  man  in 
England  to  stand  beside  him.  The  glance  of  his  eyes 
pierced  me  like  a  spear.  While  I  was  present  an 
officer  entered  with  a  report  concerning  the  plot  of 
the  Fifth  Monarchy  Men.  His  anger  was  great ;  but 
he  shut  close  his  mouth,  and  I  saw  he  was  reining 
up  by  a  strong  effort  the  prancing  passions  within 
him." 

Kelder  was  much  moved  by  this  information.  In  his 
own  heart  was  a  strong  leaning  toward  these  fervent 
visionary  watchers  for  the  visible  coming  of  Christ  the 
King  and  the  reign  of  the  saints  on  earth.  Unknown 
to  any  soul  he  had  cherished  the  same  longing.  There 
was  a  high  hill  behind  Kelderby,  and  many  a  morning 
he  had  climbed  it,  and  looking  toward  the  east,  watched 
for  the  glory  of  the  Second  Advent.  He  was  sorry  that 
those  who  watched  with  him  should  take  up  carnal 
weapons  and  make  divisions,  and  could  hardly  believe 
it  until  Nathaniel  said, — 

"This  officer  brought  with  him  the  standard  which 
they  had  prepared,  —  a  fine  one  truly.  'T  was  folded 
close;  but  Cromwell,  with  a  strange  power,  shook  it 


THE  K ELDERS  OF  KELDERBY.  II 

open.  So  I  saw  that  it  was  a  lion  couchant,  and  the 
motto  written,  '  Who  shall  rouse  him  up  ? '  I  would 
you  had  seen  the  Lord  Protector  as  he  stood  holding 
the  standard.  His  face  was  like  a  battle-cry;  but  oh, 
the  sadness  in  his  eyes  !  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

"  Sure  't  is  a  wonder  so  great  a  man  should  think 
of  dining;  but  I  '11  warrant  he  kept  his  dinner-hour, 
plots  and  standards  and  all  to  them  !  And  pray  what 
palace  honours  he  now?" 

"  He  is  at  Hampton  Court,  Mother." 

"  Those  Cromwells  at  Hampton  Court !  Sure  't  is  a 
sight  to  make  one  think.  Elizabeth  Cromwell  in  the 
seat  of  the  queen  !  I  marvel  not  if  she  forget  whence 
she  came." 

"  Dear  heart,  let  the  women  alone.  Oliver  holds  the 
sceptre  of  England  by  right  divine,  and  Mistress  Crom 
well  is  a  godly  consort  to  him." 

"  He  has  long  wanted  the  king's  place ;  he  has  got 
ten  it  then,  it  seems." 

"  The  place  wanted  him.  I,  and  many  of  my  judg 
ment,  know  that  England  is  pleased  and  well  content 
that  he  should  be  there." 

"  Not  all  content,  as  these  Fifth  Monarchy  Men 
show." 

"  Such  out  of  a  godly  jealousy  misunderstand  him. 
In  time  he  will  make  his  work  clear." 

"But  herein  others  are  of  a  like  dissatisfied  mind," 
said  Nathaniel.  "  Many  Christians  of  good  quality  com 
plain  of  the  spiritual  bondage  in  which  he  leaves  them. 
A  deputation  of  tne  people  called  Quakers  was  waiting 
at  Hampton  Court.  I  saw  not  its  manner  of  reception, 
but  they  also  say  that  '  Cromwell  understands  them 
not ; '  nor  are  they  wiser  concerning  his  way  of  dealing 
with  them." 


12  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  'T  is  most  likely,"  interrupted  Lady  Kelder,  scorn 
fully.  "  They  are  a  silly  set,  so  full  of  themselves  that 
they  have  no  room  for  the  grace  of  God.  Quakers, 
forsooth  !  God  give  us  patience  when  we  speak  of  them  ! 
And  as  for  the  Lord  Protector  being  beyond  their  wis 
dom,  't  is  most  likely.  A  do.vn  day  for  General  Crom 
well  when  he  can  fold  himself  to  their  size  !  If  you  will 
tell  me  shortly  what  is  to  be  done  with  your  cousins 
De  Burg,  I  will  leave  you  to  discuss  the  Cromwells.  I 
find  them  not  so  pleasant  a  subject  for  my  sleeping 
thoughts." 

"De  Burg  has  permission  to  remain  within  his  do 
mains.  He  is  not  to  go  beyond  them." 

"  God  knows  he  will  cross  seas  whenever  he  has  mat 
ter  to  carry  the  king.  I  mean  Charles  Stuart." 

"  He  is  to  give  his  word  not  to  cross  seas." 

"  His  tenfold  oath  would  not  bind  him." 

"Then  you  must  know  that  my  father  is  surety  for 
his  word.  If  it  cannot  be  depended  upon,  we  stand  to 
lose  ten  thousand  pounds  forfeit." 

"  Baron,  you  have  done  a  wicked  thing.  Why  should 
you  endanger  your  own  estate  to  save  De  Burg's  ?  Con 
ceive  how  merry  a  business  it  will  be  for  him  to  cheat 
and  mock  his  Puritan  cousin  !  I  say,  it  was  ill  done 
to  pledge  your  land." 

"  Dear  Joan,  I  pledged  my  word.  I  will  pillar  my 
word  with  my  land.  Is  my  land  worth  more  than  my 
word?  I  trow  not." 

"De  Burg  called  you  traitor,  and  in  the  beginning 
of  this  fight  he  did  you  many  an  ill  turn.  The  Lord 
of  Hosts  has  given  our  side  the  victory ;  't  is  an  open 
insult  to  his  mercy  to  make  friends  with  your  foes." 

"  De  Burg  was  my  cousin  before  he  was  mine  enemy. 
My  mother  was  his  mother's  sister." 


THE  KELDERS  OF  KELDERBY.  1-3 

"David   says  —  " 

"Joan,  I  go  not  back  to  Sinai.  He  that  came  out 
of  Nazareth  said,  Love  your  enemies ;  do  good  to  them 
that  do  ill  to  you." 

Then  there  was  a  little  silence.  Lady  Kelder  was 
trembling  with  anger.  A  verse  of  Scripture  may  bring 
a  wise  decision  in  a  question  of  right  or  wrong ;  but 
it  oftener  comes  like  a  sword  than  as  a  peacemaker. 
So  though  it  was  impossible  for  her  at  the  moment  to 
dispute  so  plain  an  order,  she  felt  that  there  were  ways 
of  meeting  it,  and  she  held  these  in  reserve. 

Then  Nathaniel  leaned  forward  and  took  her  hand, 
and  his  bright  face  drove  away  the  gathering  shadows 
on  her  brow.  "  We  had  a  poor  dinner,"  he  said.  "  If 
I  had  been  curious  about  my  food,  I  should  have  wished 
myself  at  your  table,  dear  mother." 

"  Mistress  Cromwell  knows  neither  how  to  cook  nor 
how  to  let  cooking  alone.  'T  is  a  strange  ordering 
which  puts  her  in  royal  rooms  and  royal  dress ;  but 
many  heads  have  learned  to  lift  themselves  not  before 
used  to  it." 

"  She  is  very  quiet,  and  her  dress  not  so  brave  nor 
so  becoming  as  your  own.  A  black  velvet  she  wore,  but 
shabby;  and  the  lawn  broidery  poor  and  darned,  and 
wanting  that  spotless  purity  which  is  better  in  my  eyes 
than  broidered  bands." 

"  I  have  heard  that  Mistress  Cromwell  was  not  too 
neat,  —  a  bad  fault  in  a  woman ;  and  the  Lord  Pro 
tector  was  but  a  sloven  ere  the  days  of  wearing  steel 
corselets  and  of  sceptre  holding." 

"  As  for  the  room,  there  were  some  fine  tapestry 
hangings,  and  window  curtains  of  scarlet  baize,  and  a 
couch  covered  with  fly-coloured  damask.  And  the  Lord 
Protector  had  an  elbow  chair,  and  there  were  backed 


14  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

stools  for  the  rest  of  the  company.  But  the  long  black 
table  compares  not  with  the  carved  oak  table  and  chairs 
of  this  room ;  and  the  andirons  were  neither  so  heavy 
nor  so  bright  as  these ; "  and  Nathaniel,  as  he  laid  a 
fresh  log  across  them,  lightly  touched  the  brass  hearlh 
furnishings  which  were  his  mother's  pride.  So  the  brass 
andirons  and  the  carved  oak  furniture,  though  but  dumb 
comforters,  softened  the  first  stinging  sense  of  the  bar 
on's  improvident  translation  of  the  great  Nazarene's 
command. 

In  the  morning  it  was  decided  to  inform  De  Burg 
as  early  as  possible  of  the  mercy  shown  him,  espe 
cially  as  it  was  necessary  to  be  explicit  concerning 
the  restraints  and  obligations  upon  which  it  was  to 
be  continued.  "  'T  is  only  kind  to  ride  over  to 
Kendal  at  once,  Nathaniel,"  said  the  baron.  "  Sus 
pense  is  ill  company,  and  De  Burg  must  be  an  anxious 
man." 

"  'T  is  you,  Odinel,  that  should  be  the  anxious  man," 
said  Lady  Kelder.  "  De  Burg  counts  the  years  of 
Cromwell's  life,  and  assures  himself  that  with  Cromwell 
dies  the  Commonwealth.  His  estate  is  now  loaded  with 
debt.  The  king  returning  will  cancel  all  claims.  King 
or  Cromwell,  he  need  not  fret  himself  very  much.  And 
why  go  not  you  yourself?  'T  is  but  right  he  should 
take  the  favour  from  your  hands,  and  the  orders  which 
bind  it;  right  also  that  he  should  give  you  thanks  for 
your  kindness.  I  think  not  of  his  promises.  I  trow  he 
will  keep  none  that  sort  not  with  his  interest  and  his 
inclination." 

"  De  Burg  hates  an  obligation,  especially  from  me. 
Why  force  him  to  say  words  he  means  not  ?  I  have  the 
approval  I  want  already." 

"  Consider  your  own  unreason,  Baron.     You  will  keep 


THE  KELDERS  OF  KELDERBY.       15 

De  Burg  out  of  the  temptation  to  say  false  words,  and 
you  will  send  your  own  son  into  snares  laid  by  the  flesh 
and  the  Devil  hard  for  any  man  to  resist." 

Nathaniel  smiled.  "  Vainly  is  the  net  spread  in  the 
sight  of  any  bird,  Mother.  My  cousin  Anastasia  is 
known  to  me.  I  acknowledge  her  beauty,  but  I  feel 
it  not." 

"  Nathaniel,  the  self-confident  fall  before  they  know 
that  they  are  in  danger.  Anastasia  suffers  no  man  to 
escape  her  witcheries." 

" I  have  seen  her  frequently;  I  am  not  bewitched." 

"  The  pitcher  goes  often  to  the  well,  and  gets  broken 
at  last." 

"  Anastasia  will  not  break  my  heart,  dear  mother.  I 
can  watch  all  her  wiles,  and  slip  away  from  them." 

"  From  afar  things  appear  so  easy  to  do.  But  if  you 
are  determined  to  try  experiments  with  yourself,  Na 
thaniel,  at  least  do  it  with  deliberate  question  and 
answer." 

Then  the  horses  were  brought  to  the  door,  and 
Nathaniel  kissed  his  mother's  hand  and  mounted.  His 
father  was  to  ride  part  of  the  way  with  him,  and  the  two 
men  went  slowly  together  across  the  moor  and  up  the 
hill.  A  couple  of  lurchers  flashed  like  gray  snakes 
through  the  bracken  around  them ;  and  the  colts  came 
whinnying,  with  staring  eyes  and  streaming  manes,  to 
watch  and  wonder  at  the  splendid  thrall  of  their  bridled 
kind.  Indifferent  to  all  such  matters,  they  went  calmly 
forward,  talking  not  so  much  of  the  business  with 
De  Burg  as  of  the  Lord's  great  dealings  by  General 
Cromwell. 

And  afar  off  Lady  Kelder  watched  them  winding 
round  the  fells.  "  I  wish  this  day's  work  bring  not  mis 
fortune  and  ruin,"  she  whispered,  and  her  heart  sighed 


1 6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

as  she  passed  inside  the  door  with  that  still,  drawling 
step  too  often  prelusive  of  sorrow.  She  was  a  brave 
woman  by  nature,  and  yet  she  tainted  the  sweet  spring 
air  with  whispers  of  apprehension.  Oh,  how  difficult  it 
is  to  speak  good -omened  words  ! 


II. 

BLAME   THYSELF. 

"  O  woman,  woman,  woman  !     All  the  gods 
Have  not  such  power  of  doing  good  to  men 
As  you  of  doing  harm." 

"  A  generous  fierceness  dwells  with  innocence, 
And  conscious  virtue  is  allowed  some  pride." 

Who  will  pity  a  charmer  that  is  bitten  with  a  serpent,  or  any  such  as 
come  nigh  wild  beasts?  .  .  .  An  enemy  speaketh  sweetly  with  his  lips,  but 
in  his  heart  he  imagineth  how  to  throw  tliee  into  a  pit :  he  will  weep  with 
his  eyes,  but  if  he  find  opportunity  he  will  not  be  satisfied  with  blood.  — 
ECCLESIASTICUS  xii.  13-16. 

"VTATHANIEL  entered  Kendal  early  in  the  afternoon. 
*^  It  was  then  a  very  aristocratic  town,  full  of  fine 
houses  built  of  the  mountain  limestone.  The  ripple  of 
the  swift  running  Kent,  the  pleasant  stir  of  the  fresh 
wind  in  the  poplars,  the  jubilant  notes  of  the  church 
bells,  —  all  these  sounds  but  deepened  the  silence  and 
peace  of  the  proud  and  beautiful  city.  It  seemed  to  be 
a  proper  home  for  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen  who 
lived  at  their  ease  and  who  had  given  their  own  air  of 
serenity  and  spotlessness  to  the  place. 

In  Stricklandgate  Nathaniel  met  the  great  beauty 
Mary  Bellingham.  She  was  riding  a  superb  Barbary 
mare,  walking  it  slowly  up  the  wide  street,  pleasantly 
conscious  of  her  own  loitering  and  of  the  creature's  im 
patience  at  it.  It  lifted  high  its  dainty  feet  and  let  them 
fall  with  distinct  yet  rebellious  efforts  to  realize  its  rider's 

2 


1 8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

dreamy  mood.  Nathaniel  passed  her  bareheaded,  and 
the  royalist  beauty  vouchsafed  him  the  shadow  of  a  cold 
smile.  In  the  thoughtless  days  of  childhood  she  had 
once  chosen  Nathaniel  for  her  valentine.  What  heart 
burnings,  what  loss  of  life  and  love  lay  between  that  hour 
and  the  present !  Ere  he  reached  De  Burg  Hall  many 
sad  thoughts  had  followed  that  glimpse  of  the  lovely  face 
of  his  boyish  sweetheart. 

De  Burg  was  an  old  ecclesiastical  house,  and  was  built 
as  such  houses  were  apt  to  be  in  the  snug  shelter  of  a 
rich  valley.  High  hills  surrounded  it,  but  the  long,  low 
building  of  gray  stone  spread  itself  among  green  meadows 
and  under  the  shade  of  ancient  sycamores.  It  had  been 
granted  to  the  De  Burgs  at  the  time  of  the  great  spolia 
tion  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  hitherto  they  had 
gripped  tight  to  it. 

Even  in  this  crisis  of  his  family,  Stephen  de  Burg  did 
not  worry  himself  greatly  as  to  his  possessions.  He  had 
a  firm  belief  in  the  downfall  of  Cromwell ;  a  firm  con 
viction  that  the  science  of  government  was  impossible  to 
the  mechanical  classes.  A  few  years,  more  or  less,  and 
the  king  would  come  to  his  own  and  be  received  gladly 
by  them.  A  Puritan  confiscation  might  be  troublesome, 
an  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  even  more  so,  but  at  any 
rate  they  would  be  claims  upon  King  Charles  which  he 
would  abundantly  pay. 

Such  ideas  made  him  tolerably  comfortable  until  the 
Puritan  hand  was  upon  his  estate  and  the  Puritan  threat 
of  imprisonment  in  his  ear.  Then  he  had  found  his 
kinsman  Kelder  to  be  sufficient  for  his  necessity.  He 
had,  however,  no  gratitude  for  this  gracious  interference 
in  his  fate ;  for  De  Burg  not  only  loved  to  go  a  motive 
hunting,  but  he  also  deliberately  hunted  for  the  very  worst 
motive  he  could  find. 


BLAME    THYSELF.  19 

"  Cousin  Kelder  has  become  my  bondsman  !  Na 
thaniel  has  gone  to  London  to  get  the  old  brewer's  as 
surance  of  quit  and  safety !  What  of  that  ?  These 
godly  fellows  have  plenty  of  worldly  wisdom.  Never 
trust  me  if  Kelder  sees  not  that  the  king  must  soon  come 
back.  Then  he  will  expect  De  Burg  to  protect  Kel- 
derby  and  Swaffham.  Will  I?  I  never  pretended  to 
wisdom,  but  I  should  be  the  perfectest  fool  if  I  paid  such 
back  debts."  And  De  Burg  laughed  with  harsh  amuse 
ment  at  the  thought.  "  As  for  Nat  Kelder,  I  '11  swear  he 
has  been  in  love  with  Asia  since  he  was  as  high  as  my 
top-boots;  and  he  thinks  '  t  would  be  'a.  comfortable  dis 
pensation  '  to  add  De  Burg  to  Kelderby  and  Swaffham. 
Fair  and  softly,  my  young  cousin.  '  T  will  be  a  miracle 
if  you  compass  it.  Here  he  comes,  with  all  the  assurance 
imaginable.  Lord,  how  I  hate  such  complaisance  !  " 

For  to  this  mental  criticism  De  Burg  had  been  watch 
ing  the  approach  of  Nathaniel.  He  turned  with  the 
last  exclamation  and  went  to  the  gate  to  meet  him. 
More  anxious  than  he  would  admit,  Nathaniel's  prom- 
iseful  face  lifted  an  unacknowledged  weight  off  his  heart. 
He  could  not  help  reciprocating  the  smile  of  his  visitor 
as  he  held  out  his  hand,  and  said  almost  merrily,  — 

"  Well,  sir,  are  you  come  to  turn  me  out  of  house  and 
home?  Am  I  to  visit  Tower  Hill?  Is  my  head  wanted 
for  Westminster  or  Temple  Bar?  " 

"  I  come  with  no  such  unhandsome  news,  Cousin.  Your 
undoing  is  in  your  own  hands,  and  in  none  other.  In 
your  house  and  within  your  boundaries  and  your  native 
town  you  are  as  much  lord  as  ever.  Only  cross  not  seas 
or  hold  communication  with'  Charles  Stuart ;  if  you  do, 
it  will  be  at  your  life's  peril." 

"  Faith  !  I  would  as  lief  hold  life  from  Beelzebub  as 
from  Oliver.  A  pretty  topsy-turvy  world  when  an  old 


2O  FRIEND    OLIVIA. 

fen  farmer  and  brewer  says  '  thus  and  so '  to  English 
nobles  ! " 

"  You  offend  uselessly,  Cousin.  I  dispute  not  that  it 
is  a  large  bill  on  your  patience ;  but  it  must  be  dis 
charged,  or  worse  consequences ;  and  for  my  father's 
sake  sure  you  will  carry  yourself  wisely." 

"  I  will  carry  myself  as  suits  myself.  Fear  not ;  I  will 
make  shift  to  endure  it." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  soberly —  " 

"  Nay,  then,  I  swear  I  will  have  no  sober  talk  from 
you.  All  your  wisdom  won't  mend  my  humour.  I  am 
fallen  out  with  the  whole  world  to-day  ;  but  I  am  mightily 
obliged  to  my  cousin  Kelder,  and  for  his  sake  —  and 
yours  also  —  I  shall  think  better  of  a  Puritan  as  long  as 
I  live.  I  pray  you  go  in  and  refresh  yourself.  You 
will  find  Asia  in  the  garden  with  two  of  her  present  ser 
vants  ;  and  we  will  meet  at  table  for  further  discourse." 

Nathaniel  had  in  his  mind  a  plan  far  more  to  his  lik 
ing,  but  he  did  not  care  to  provoke  disputings  about  it. 
De  Burg  was  bound  for  the  hills.  In  their  silent  places 
he  could  safely  swear  out  his  passion  at  the  world  and 
the  ruling  of  it.  He  stimulated  his  anger  with  memories 
of  the  days  in  which  he  had  lounged  about  Whitehall  and 
Hampton  Court  and  drank  deeply  of  every  cup  of  sinful 
enchantment ;  when  he  had  swaggered  and  bullied  with 
all  that  mad  crowd,  and  laughed  himself  into  the  belief 
that  the  solid  Saxons  of  the  fen  country  were  a  handful 
of  clowns  scarce  worthy  the  swords  of  the  courtly  nobles. 

He  was  a  swarthy  man,  a  little  corpulent,  fiery,  credu 
lous,  and  false,  with  the  insolent  manners  which  belong 
to  natures  so  vulgar  that  they  cannot  endure  any  one 
above  them,  be  it  prince  or  God.  There  had  been  times 
when  he  had  hated  the  late  king  as  heartily  as  he  now 
hated  Cromwell,  —  as  heartily  as  he  would  hate  any  one 


BLAME    THYSELF.  21 

who  could  put  a  check  upon  the  license  of  his  will  and 
way.  So  it  had  been  hard  for  him  to  assume  any  decent 
amount  of  gratitude ;  and  Nathaniel,  in  spite  of  his  lov 
able  disposition,  felt  that  he  could  have  borne  a  real  in 
jury  easier  than  this  neglect  of  a  self-evident  right. 

When  De  Burg  turned  away  from  him,  he  entered  the 
house.  A  servant  took  him  to  a  chamber,  and  he  washed 
his  face  and  hands  and  put  on  a  clean  band,  and  then 
refreshed  himself  with  some  cold  roast  beef  and  a  measure 
of  ale.  But  it  was  not  a  satisfactory  meal.  The  con 
tinued  absence  of  Anastasia  deepened  his  feeling  of  re 
sentment,  especially  as  he  heard  at  intervals  the  shrill 
mockery  of  her  laugh  and  the  wilful  vibrations  of  her 
clear,  resonant  voice. 

He  ate  with  conscious  deliberation.  If  his  restless 
disappointment  arose  from  any  remembrance  of  love  for 
his  cousin,  it  was  his  duty  to  cross  its  demands.  And 
he  did  so  with  an  over-exacting  fidelity.  The  servants 
wondered  at  his  slow  precision  and  his  thoughtful  dally 
ing  with  a  very  ordinary  dinner.  He  was  really  spec 
ulating  as  to  whether  Anastasia  knew  of  his  presence  ;  he 
was  listening  for  her  step,  he  was  involuntarily  watching 
the  door.  Every  time  it  moved  he  was  expecting  to  see 
the  dark,  piquant,  provoking  face  of  Asia  de  Burg. 

But  she  came  not ;  and  when  his  meal  could  be  no 
farther  prolonged  he  walked  with  a  slow  indifference  to 
the  door  opening  into  the  garden.  Really  the  indiffer 
ence  was  not  altogether  affected ;  he  had  been  telling 
himself  that  to  go  to  Anastasia  was  to  go  deliberately 
into  temptation,  and  he  preferred  the  temptation  to 
come  to  him.  Somehow  the  folly  that  takes  us  unawares 
seems  more  excusable  than  the  folly  we  premeditate. 
But  why  suffer  himself  to  be  tried  in  either  way?  De 
Burg  had  felt  the  commonest  form  of  gratitude  to  be  a 


22  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

trial.  Anastasia  had  a  pride  equal  to  her  father's.  If 
she  did  not  wish  to  express  her  obligation,  why  should  he 
compel  her  to  do  so  ?  It  was  ungenerous.  He  might  at 
least  try  to  emulate  that  noble  not-caring  of  the  Divine 
heart  which  sendeth  rain  and  sunshine  alike  on  the 
thankful  and  the  unthankful.  Thinking  thus,  he  resolved 
to  leave  De  Burg  at  once. 

But  even  while  wisdom  spoke  to  him,  her  words  were 
silenced  by  a  clear,  peremptory  call.  It  filled  the  cham 
bers  of  his  ear  and  the  chambers  of  his  heart.  He 
blushed  like  a  girl  when  she  hears  for  the  first  time  the 
call  of  Love,  and  he  answered  it  as  promptly  as  if  it  had 
been  the  Lord  General's  bugle  on  the  battle-field.  His 
feet  seemed  to  move  without  his  option ;  he  stamped 
them  on  the  gravel  to  assure  himself  of  his  own  will  in 
the  matter,  and  as  he  went  the  same  penetrating  call 
urged  him  again  and  yet  again  : 
•  "  Nathaniel !  Nathaniel !  Nathaniel !  " 

There  were  three  terraces  and  she  was  on  the  lowest 
one,  but  the  clear  lingering  syllables  appeared  to  fill  all 
the  space  around  him.  He  went  rapidly  from  terrace  to 
terrace,  taking  the  low  broad  steps  he  knew  not  how. 
On  the  outermost  edge  of  the  lowest  there  was  a  fish 
pond,  surrounded  by  a  wide  margin  of  green  turf  bor 
dered  with  sweetbrier,  now  full  of  its  spring-tide  scent. 
The  thyme's  perfumed  sprig  and  the  delicious  odours  of 
wall-flowers  and  auriculas  seemed  to  make  a  part  of  the 
voice.  He  could  not  separate  sound  and  scent;  nor 
did  he  try. 

In  a  moment  or  two  he  saw  Anastasia  standing  on  the 
turf.  She  was  playing  battledore  with  two  gentlemen,  and 
with  face  and  arm  uplifted  was  bending  slightly  forward 
to  catch  the  feathered  toy.  In  the  act  she  let  the  battle 
dore  drop  to  the  ground,  and  turned  toward  Nathaniel. 


BLAME    THYSELF.  2$ 

Her  face  and  throat  and  bosom  were  rosy  with  the  exer 
cise,  her  eyes  glinting  with  mirth,  her  dark  hair  tossed 
into  a  picturesque  mass  of  curls  falling  so  low  as  to  cover 
her  shoulders,  and  even  partly  veil  her  bosom.  Her  dress 
was  of  fawn-coloured  satin  adorned  with  a  great  number  of 
pink  bows,  and  there  were  large  pink  rosettes  upon  the 
insteps  of  her  shoes,  and  long  streamers  of  pink  ribbon 
upon  the  shepherdess  hat,  which  she  had  flung  upon  the 
grass. 

She  came  to  meet  him,  radiant,  wearing  all  her  en 
chantments.  The  touch  of  her  jewelled  fingers,  the  scent 
of  her  garments,  the  darting  light  from  her  eyes,  the  slight 
pout  of  her  beautiful  lips,  the  caressing  tones  of  her  voice, 
took  him  captive  at  once.  Squire  Chenage  and  Captain 
Bellingham,  with  whom  she  had  been  playing,  watched 
with  a  dark  scorn  a  meeting  so  little  to  their  liking  from 
many  points  of  view.  Hating  each  other  cordially,  they 
still  more  cordially  agreed  in  their  hatred  of  Captain  Kel- 
der.  With  marked  hauteur  they  went  to  the  side  of  the 
pond  and  engaged  in  a  meaningless  conversation  about 
the  size  of  the  pike  and  the  tench.  Nathaniel  heeded 
not  the  movement ;  he  was  scarcely  conscious  of  their 
presence  until  Anastasia  dropped  his  hands  and  went  to 
give  them  a  courteous  dismission. 

"My  cousin  Kelder,"  she  said,  "has  been  to  London 
on  our  affairs,  and  I  am  in  the  humour  of  being  pleasant 
to  him.  As  't  is  the  greatest  conquest  I  shall  ever  make 
of  my  pride,  you  must  give  me  leave  to  practise  the  new 
\irtue." 

Captain  Bellingham  took  his  discharge  with  good- 
humoured  raillery.  Squire  Chenage  looked  darkly  at 
Kelder,  and  avowed  his  intention  of  "playing  the  game 
out  with  him." 

"  You  had  better  not,  Squire,"  answered  Anastasia,  with 


24  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

snapping  eyes  and  emphasis.  "  He  is  swifter  than  you 
dream  of." 

It  was  a  trying  situation  for  the  two  gallants,  and  they 
did  not  bear  themselves  to  advantage  in  it.  Nathaniel's 
beauty  and  air  of  confidence,  and  Anastasia's  cool  in 
difference  flustered  and  irritated  them.  It  brought  out 
the  bravo  in  Bellingham  and  the  bully  in  the  ruder 
Squire ;  and  somehow  their  satin  doublets  and  their 
scented  love-locks  gave  to  their  mien  of  real  anger  an 
air  of  swagger  and  fanfaronade  which  was  altogether 
unjust. 

Dimly  conscious  of  this  effect  they  hurried  across  the 
terrace,  swinging  their  feathered  hats,  and  feeling  in  the 
hot  passion  of  the  moment  their  ribboned  points  and 
boots  trimmed  with  ruffs  of  Flemish  lace  to  be  quite  out 
of  keeping  with  the  rude  greeting  they  would  have  been 
delighted  to  exchange  with  the  young  Puritan.  Both  of 
them  glanced  at  Nathaniel  as  they  passed  him.  He 
stood  by  one  of  the  pillars  which  supported  the  lower 
steps,  and  against  the  white  limestone  his  tall  dark  figure 
was  a  graceful  and  conspicuous  object.  Their  glance  met 
an  instant  and  courteous  response.  Nathaniel  lifted  the 
high,  plain  hat  which  was  such  an  offence  to  courtly  taste, 
and  in  so  doing  revealed  more  distinctly  the  strong  yet 
delicate  beauty  of  his  countenance  and  the  close  cluster 
ing  curls  of  his  bright  brown  hair. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  record  the  few  emphatic  words 
with  which  Chenage  and  Bellingham  expressed  their  feel 
ings  ;  those  of  Anastasia,  though  sweet  and  pleasant,  had 
a  deeper  malice,  a  more  enduring  and  far-reaching  un- 
kindness.  She  stood  at  Nathaniel's  side,  the  incarnation 
of  mocking  beauty,  watching  the  two  young  men  out  of 
sight.  It  was  not  necessary  for  her  to  speak ;  Nathaniel 
understood  the  glint  of  her  eyes,  the  almost  unconscious 


BLAME   THYSELF.  2$ 

rhythm  of  her  body,  caricaturing  the  ungraceful  walk  of 
the  be-ribboned  swains. 

"  I  admire  how  these  men  dress  like  women,"  she  said 
at  length.  "  Give  me,  Cousin,  the  privilege  to  ridicule 
them  a  little.  For  my  own  liking  I  would  that  men  ever 
wore  leather  or  steel.  Chenage  in  his  leather  hunting- 
suit  is  very  much  of  a  man,  and  Bellingham  in  his  uniform 
not  so  laughable  as  in  purple  and  white  satin.  Upon  my 
word,  Cousin,"  and  she  looked  steadily  in  his  face,  "  I  find 
you  extremely  handsome  and  extremely  well  dressed. 
Come  now,  sit  down,  and  you  shall  tell  me  how  Mistress 
Cromwell  lives  in  the  king's  house.  'T  is  said  she  goes 
into  the  palace  kitchen,  and  is  never  so  happy  as  when 
among  the  pots  and  pans.  People  that  pretend  to  know 
say  so." 

Then  Nathaniel  spread  his  cloak  upon  the  lowest  step 
of  the  flight,  and  they  sat  down  together ;  but  he  told  her 
first  of  the  Protector's  clemency,  and  explained  the  easy 
terms  upon  which  it  was  proposed  to  save  the  lands  of 
De  Burg.  He  passed  by  as  lightly  as  possible  his  own 
and  his  father's  share  in  the  arrangement,  and  Anastasia 
was  not  generous  enough  to  acknowledge  it.  Still  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  in  spite  of  her  affected  recklessness  she 
had  been  exceedingly  anxious  as  to  the  result  of  the  visit 
to  London. 

"  It  is  simple  salvation,"  she  said.  "  I  have  been  plan 
ning  a  life  for  myself  when  I  should  be  turned  out  of  De 
Burg." 

"  You  would  have  come  to  Kelderby.  The  house  is 
big  enough  for  six  families.  There  are  even  rooms  which 
I  have  never  seen  open." 

*'•  Haunted  rooms,  or  my  life  for  it.  All  the  rooms  in 
De  Burg  are  haunted.  I  have  seen  the  ghosts  many  a 
time  and  oft." 


26  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Asia ! " 

"  I  '11  swear  it.  Old  abbots  and  monks  gliding  about, 
looking  for  the  souls  they  have  lost.  But  I  should  not 
have  gone  to  Kelderby.  I  should  have  gone  to  the  king 
at  Paris.  'T  is  but  a  beggarly  court  he  keeps  there  ;  but 
he  hath  a  gay  heart,  and  by  all  accounts  there  are  merry 
times.  I  can  sing  a  song  with  any  one.  When  women 
can't  work,  they  can  sing.  Heigh-ho  !  'T  is  a  queer 
world,  dear  Cousin."  And  she  moved  closer  to  him  and 
gently  stroked  his  hand. 

Every  caressing  movement  made  life  in  its  innermost 
room  tremble  with  pleasure.  He  was  speechless  under 
her  charming.  If  he  could  have  spoken  he  might  have 
broken  her  spell;  but  he  sat  passive,  watching  the  rich 
carnation  of  her  cheeks  and  the  sensitive  play  of  her 
tempting  lips. 

"  Yes,  I  could  have  sung  the  king  out  of  a  dukedom ; 
and  though  you  sit  dumb  as  an  owl,  I  vow  I  will  sing  you 
out  of  a  chorus."  She  darted  like  a  bird  across  the  band 
of  turf  and  took  from  the  margin  of  the  pond  a  lute. 
"  Listen  !  "  she  cried.  Then  a  wild  sylvan  melody  was 
flung  into  the  air,  —  a  melody  that  seemed  to  be  made  of 
the  glad  rustling  of  trees  and  the  gurgling  of  running 
waters.  Her  voice  lifted  the  tinkling  notes  higher.  She 
came  forward  slowly,  singing  as  if  her  whole  being  was 
nothing  but  a  song,  — 

" '  A  North  Country  lass 
Up  to  London  did  pass, 
Although  with  her  nature  it  did  not  agr>c  ; 
Which  made  her  repent, 
And  so  often  lament, 
Still  wishing  again  in  the  North  to  be. 
Oh,  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonny  «<^  tree, 
They  flourish  at  home  in  the  North  C(  tin-cry  1 ' 

"Sing,  Cousin, — 


BLAME    THYSELF.  2J 

"  '  Oh,  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonny  ivy  tree,'  — 

"  Sing,  Cousin,  sweet  Cousin,  sing,  — 

"  '  Oh,  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonny  ivy  tree, 
They  flourish  at  home  in  the  North  Country  ! '  " 

She  was  standing  before  him,  her  eyes  were  searching 
his  ;  she  stooped  slightly  forward,  and  the  witchery  of  the 
bright  impassioned  face  was  irresistible.  His  lips  parted 
at  her  next  imperative  glance,  and,  willing  or  unwilling, 
without  any  conscious  consent,  he  was  mingling  his  voice 
with  hers,  and  telling  all  the  flowers  and  birds  around 
them,  — 

"  Oh,  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonny  ivy  tree, 
They  flourish  at  home  in  the  North  Country  1 ' " 

They  sang  the  whole  song  through,  and  at  every  verse 
they  drew  closer  together.  When  she  laid  down  the  lute 
her  head  was  on  Nathaniel's  shoulder  and  his  arm  was 
around  her  waist.  She  had  sung  her  soul  into  her  face. 
It  was  gazing  passionately  from  her  eyes,  it  was  beating 
at  the  door  of  her  lips.  For  a  few  moments  speech  was 
the  most  impossible  and  the  most  unnecessary  of  things, 
the  significant  language  of  music  had  said  so  much  more 
than  common  words  would  have  ventured  upon.  That 
Da  Capo  of  the  last  two  lines  had  broken  down  the  flood 
gates  of  feeling  and  let  both  hearts  flow  together.- 

The  silence  which  followed  was  to  Nathaniel  even 
sweeter  than  the  song.  He  did  not  venture  to  break  it. 
But  in  a  few  moments  Anastasia  wearied  of  the  tension, 
the  light  faded  from  her  face,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  strife 
was  over.  She  felt  that  she  had  conquered,  and  she  made 
haste  to  claim  the  spoils. 

"  Nathaniel !  " 

"  Asia  !  I  believe  you  have  been  playing  upon  my 
heartstrings.  I  am  in  a  trance  of —  " 


2&  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  You  are  going  to  say  '  I  love  you.1  I  swear  you 
shall  not  say  such  foolish  words.  I  am  weary  of  hearing 
them." 

"What  then  shall  I  say?" 

" Say  nothing.     What  will  you  do  for  me? " 

"  What  is  it  you  wish  me  to  do  ?"  He  spoke  almost  in 
a  whisper,  and  with  a  singular  soul  reluctance. 

"  Ah,  me  !  Help  me  about  my  brother  John.  If  you 
help  me  not,  he  and  I  are  both  undone."  Her  eyes  were 
brimming  with  tears  ;  she  gazed  pitifully  into  Nathaniel's 
face,  and  then  gave  way  to  unrestrained  weeping. 

Nathaniel  was  shaken  soul  and  body  between  his  pity 
for  the  woman  and  his  indignation  at  the  thing  she  had 
asked  him  to  do%  From  his  earliest  youth  John  de  Burg 
had  been  a  reprobate.  Hating  the  discipline  of  his 
father's  authority,  he  had  fled  to  sea  when  but  fourteen 
years  old  and  joined  the  Turkish  pirates  who  at  that  time 
ravaged  the  west  coast  of  England.  For  the  tyranny  and 
extravagance  of  King  Charles  had  left  all  the  forts  and 
castles  of  the  west  unguarded  ;  their  villages  were  fre 
quently  plundered,  and  many  Christian  men  and  women 
were  captured  and  sold  into  a  cruel  and  hopeless 
captivity. 

And  John  de  Burg  had  led  these  infamous  pirates  to 
the  coasts  of  his  own  county.  His  boyish  form  had  been 
recognized  in  several  attacks.  'T  was  even  said  that  he  had 
lured  four  of  his  father's  tenants  to  the  ship,  which  had 
carried  them  away.  Such  an  apprenticeship  to  crime 
had  brought  forth  its  natural  results.  He  was  now  a  man 
of  thirty-eight,  and  he  had  made  his  name  a  terror  to  all 
merchant  vessels ;  for  he  attacked  indifferently  English 
or  foreign  crafts,  and  the  dollars  and  doubloons  of  Span 
ish  galleons,  or  the  sugar  and  timber  of  Bristol  and  Col 
chester  ships,  were  alike  his  prizes.  He  had  even  taken 


BLAME   THYSELF.  2$ 

the  spoils  of  the  sea  from  the  hardy  fishers  of  Newfound 
land.  As  for  the  sailors  of  the  captured  vessels,  a  miser 
able  choice  of  fates  was  given  them,  —  they  could  join 
De  Burg's  fleet  of  pirates  and  slavers,  or  be  sold  into 
slavery,  or  die. 

King  Charles,  whose  clemency  could  generally  be 
bought,  had  been  compelled  to  pass  sentence  of  out 
lawry  on  De  Burg;  and  Cromwell  had  sent  a  ship  to 
take  him  on  the  high  seas,  and  hang  him  at  the  yard- 
arm  of  his  own  vessel.  It  was  evident,  then,  that  he 
had  been  badly  pressed.  Nothing  but  a  feeling  of  des 
peration  could  have  driven  him  off  the  sea,  and  back 
to  a  home  in  which  he  had  not  a  friend  but  the  half- 
sister  who  had  seen  him  only  twice,  and  then  by  stealth. 

Yet  Anastasia  had  never  felt  so  true  sympathy  for  any 
living  creature  as  for  this  graceless  brother.  The  tie 
of  blood,  now  so  much  weakened  by  the  selfishness  en 
gendered  by  civilization,  had  then  its  primitive  strength ; 
and  upon  this  basis  she  had  built  up  a  wonderful  and 
mysteriously  romantic  affection.  For  though  she  had 
seen  so  little  of  her  brother,  he  had  not  suffered  her, 
after  their  first  stolen  interview,  to  forget  him.  Strange 
men  had  brought  her  at  intervals  presents  from  him 
which  she  thoroughly  appreciated,  —  jewels  and  bro 
cades  and  fine  lace,  curious  boxes  and  scents,  and  not 
infrequently  little  leather  bags  full  of  gold  pieces. 

And  John  de  Burg  really  had  for  his  sister  a  feeling 
more  akin  to  unselfish  love  than  seemed  possible  in  a 
nature  so  perverted.  In  their  clandestine  and  danger 
ous  interviews  she  had  charmed  him.  He  felt  proud 
of  the  fair  girl  who  gave  him  her  heart  without  inquiries 
or  stipulations,  and  who  never  reproached  him  with  the 
past  or  asked  anything  for  the  future.  He  had  fre 
quently  taken  great  risks  to  send  her  tokens  of  his  re- 


3O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

membrance;  and  when  at  last  he  found  himself  forced 
to  fly  from  his  enemies  instead  of  fighting  them,  he 
had  thrown  himself  without  a  doubt  upon  her  love  and 
resources. 

Hitherto  she  had  defied  suspicion  by  her  very  bold 
ness.  She  had  secreted  him  under  his  father's  roof  for 
six  weeks.  Nor  had  she  found  it  very  difficult  to  do, 
for  she  had  ever  ruled  her  household  with  careless  pro 
digality.  There  was  in  De  Burg  Hall  none  of  that 
methodical  surveillance  which  was  the  custom  and  de 
light  of  the  ladies  of  that  time.  De  Burg  lived  for 
his  outdoor  sports,  and  was  satisfied  if  the  demands  of 
his  appetite  were  met  in  a  way  which  his  taste  approved. 
His  dining-room  and  his  sleeping-room  were  the  only 
apartments  in  his  house  he  visited,  unless  there  was  com 
pany  of  sufficient  degree  or  number  to  make  it  necessary 
to  open  the  guest  parlours  and  chambers.  But  during 
the  last  four  years  such  occasions  had  been  rare.  The 
king  in  exile  drained  his  loyal  nobles  and  gentry  of 
money ;  they  had  little  left  for  private  entertainments. 

As  for  Anastasia,  she  lived  only  for  her  own  delight. 
She  ate  delicately,  and  dressed  beautifully,  and  read  the 
ponderous  romances  of  the  day,  or  amused  herself  with 
the  peculiarities  of  her  lovers.  She  held  the  reins  of  the 
household  in  a  very  slack  hand,  and  the  servants  natu 
rally  took  their  lives  as  easily  as  possible.  None  of 
them,  at  least,  thought  it  necessary  to  clean  rooms  which 
were  not  to  be  used ;  and  Anastasia  was  now  thankful 
to  herself  for  her  indifferent  housekeeping. 

John  de  Burg  had  therefore  unmolested  possession 
of  a  chamber  in  the  main  wing ;  and  he  kept  the  key,  so 
that  it  could  not  be  carelessly  entered  from  the  outside. 
It  also  communicated,  by  another  empty  room,  with 
a  small  corridor  upon  which  Anastasia's  own  apartment 


BLAME    THYSELF,  31 

opened.  At  first  she  had  found  difficulty  in  procuring 
a  sufficiency  of  food ;  but  she  soon  hit  upon  the  plan 
of  asking  her  lovers  to  eat  with  her,  and  then  giving 
them  the  credit  for  the  plenteous  meals  which  disap 
peared  from  her  table.  And  she  made  so  many  adroit 
suggestions  and  such  merry  talk  about  their  able  appe 
tites  that  no  one  for  some  time  suspected  her  sincerity 
in  the  matter. 

But  within  the  last  week  a  strange,  uneasy  feeling  had 
been  growing  in  the  household.  A  personality  cannot 
be  long  unfelt ;  and  the  personality  of  John  de  Burg  was 
too  potent  not  to  find  out  and  penetrate  the  human 
element  surrounding  it.  De  Burg  was  the  first  to  be 
come  restless  under  this  unseen  influence. 

"  I  '11  swear  I  heard  a  strange  footstep  last  night, 
Anastasia,  on  the  chamber's  floor."  And  he  looked 
at  his  daughter  with  a  glance  the  deeper  interrogatory 
of  which  she  perfectly  understood. 

But  she  met  his  suspicious  inquiry  with  a  mocking 
raillery. 

"  None  of  my  present  servants  have  the  spirit  to  ven 
ture  so  far.  I  was  reading  '  Polexandre,'  the  wearifullest 
of  books,  I  think ;  and  I  heard  nothing  but  the  rats  and 
the  mice.  I  pray  goodness  they  eat  not  up  the  velvet 
and  leather  furniture." 

"  Then  concern  yourself  a  little  about  it." 

"  I  have  a  month's  mind  to  do  so,  —  if  one  only  knew 
what  might  come  of  Cousin  Kelder's  interference  in  our 
affairs." 

This  conversation  had  occurred  a  week  previously, 
and  since  then  first  one  servant  and  then  another  had 
either  by  look  or  word  shown  a  sense  of  something 
unusual.  They  could  not  define,  they  could  not  local 
ize,  the  influence ;  but  they  felt  its  presence. 


32  FtfEND   OLIVIA. 

So  then  it  had  become  evident  to  Anastasia  that  her 
brother  must  remove ;  and  as  soon  as  she  saw  Nathaniel 
she  fixed  upon  him  as  a  proper  person  to  rely  on. 
She  remembered  his  passionate  adoration  of  her  in  days 
past ;  she  believed  that  she  could  yet  move  him  to  carry 
out  her  will.  -But  between  those  days  and  the  present 
hour  lay  a  lifetime  of  action  and  emotion.  The  youth 
had  become  a  man.  When  she  played  with  his  heart  nine 
years  before,  Nathaniel  was  but  twenty-two,  full  of  en 
thusiasms  and  unbroken  faiths.  And  Anastasia,  then  in 
her  sixteenth  year,  had  still  illusions  left,  and  possible 
longings  after  things  lovely  and  lovable. 

She  forgot  the  stern  school  in  which  her  young  lover 
had  since  been  graduated.  She  had  not  seen  him  at 
that  burial  which  thrilled  the  stoutest  hearts  in  Eng 
land,  when  the  Puritan  hosts,  marching  bareheaded,  laid 
the  great  Hampden  in  the  chancel  of  his  parish  church. 
As  they  carried  the  hero  to  his  grave,  thousands  of  human 
voices  were  uplifted  together  in  the  lofty  melancholy 
measures  of  the  ninetieth  Psalm : 

"  Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all 
generations." 

That  psalm  had  been  Nathaniel's  consecration  hymn. 
To  its  pathetic  imploration  he  had  given  his  heart  to 
God  and  his  sword  for  England's  freedom. 

But  Anastasia  could  have  no  conception  of  such  a 
scene ;  still  less  could  she  imagine  that  miraculous  cove 
nant  between  his  soul  and  its  Maker  which  made  that 
hour  the  most  solemn  of  Nathaniel's  life.  For  he  had 
been  alone  with  God,  though  surrounded  by  an  army; 
and  through  the  mighty  human  chorus,  rising  and  rolling 
like  a  flood  until  it  was  lost  in  the  upper  spaces  and  the 
farthest  horizons,  he  had  heard  the  still  small  voice  of 
the  Divinity. 


BLAME    THYSELF.  33 

Anastasia  remembered  only  his  youthful  infatuation, 
his  eagerness  to  do  for  her  any  impossible  thing.  She 
took  no  account  of  the  fact  that  he  had  since  known 
all  the  fierce  joy  of  battle-fields,  where  lofty  enthusiasms 
fought  in  very  deed  against  principalities  and  powers 
and  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places,  and  where  piety, 
exasperated  to  warlike  vehemence,  bound  "  kings  with 
chains,  and  their  nobles  with  fetters  of  iron,"  and  con 
tended  to  the  death  for  "  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints." 

The  old  Nathaniel  was  dead,  and  Anastasia  knew  not 
the  one  she  was  trying  to  mould  to  her  wishes  with 
blandishments  and  tears.  He  looked  at  her  indeed  with 
a  kind  of  pity,  but  also  with  shame  and  anger.  Had 
she  come  to  him  in  grave  and  sorrowful  womanhood, 
acknowledging  her  brother's  crimes,  and  pleading  for 
some  space  for  his  repentance,  he  could  have  respected 
her  claim,  and  perhaps  persuaded  his  conscience  to  err 
on  mercy's  side ;  but  it  humiliated  him  to  be  sought 
with  fleshly  enticements.  Would  he  grieve  the  Holy 
Spirit  within  him  for  a  wanton  love?  Would  he  sell 
his  honour  for  a  woman's  kiss?  He  was  in  arms  against 
her  beauty  even  while  she  laid  her  hand  in  his  and 
looked  with  bewitching  entreaty  into  his  eyes.  Yet  all 
his  senses  trembled  to  her  touch ;  he  knew  that  he  could 
hold  no  parley  with  the  temptress.  He  rose,  and  stand 
ing  before  her,  asked;  —  . 

"What  do  you  wish,  Asia?     Tell  me  plainly." 

"  For  God's  sake  take  John  back  to  Kelderby  with 
you  1  You  offered  father  and  myself  a  home  if —  if  that 
old  knave  in  London  had  taken  our  own  from  ws.  Well, 
then,  I  have  every  reason  to  expect  that  you  will  give 
John  a  single  room,  and  find  him  bread  and  water  till 
his  ship  comes  for  him.  He  has  had  word  that  within 

3 


34  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

ten  days  it  would  be  by  Barrow.  Nathaniel,  hide  him 
until  he  can  get  off  to  sea ;  and  then  if  you  want  a  loving 
heart,  you  will  be  sure  to  find  it  here." 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  ask,  Asia  ?  John  de  Burg 
has  been  outlawed  by  both  the  king  and  the  Comnon- 
wealth.  Herein  you  would  make  me  the  aider  and 
abetter  of  his  crimes.  Your  father  —  " 

"  My  father  would  kill  John  on  sight.  You  pretend 
to  religion ;  have  mercy,  then.  No  one  will  suspect 
you ;  not  even  old  Noll." 

"  It  is  beyond  belief  that  I  should  use  the  honour 
of  my  father's  name  to  cover  a  villain.  Nor  will  I  so 
far  wrong  the  clemency  of  the  Lord  Protector.  I  have 
indeed  neither  list  nor  leisure  to  meddle  with  John  de 
Burg;  for  he  is  a  high-sea  robber,  a  man-stealer,  a 
woman-stealer.  He  has  committed  more  murders  than 
he  -can  remember." 

"  "T  is  the  fashion  of  the  time  to  steal  and  kill.  John 
is  no  worse  than  many  who  gain  honour  by  the  trade." 
She  spoke  with  a  pointed  emphasis  that  made  Nathaniel 
tingle.  She  put  tears  scornfully  away,  and  looked  with 
a  blazing  but  beautiful  defiance  at  him. 

"  You  must  know  that  your  brother  lured  into  hope 
less  slavery  three  men  who  had  been  his  playfellows,  — 
betrayed  them,  like  another  Judas,  with  a  kiss." 

"  Faith,  they  had  once  told  lies  on  him.  He  owed 
them  a  grudge,  and  he  paid  it.  He  did  right ;  and 
you  will  be  wise  not  to  put  yourself  in  like  danger. 
Oh,  Nathaniel !  "  and  she  rose  and  placed  her  hands 
upon  his  shoulders,  "  dear  Nathaniel,  for  my  sake  take 
John  with  you." 

Her  lovely  face  was  close  to  his ;  he  flushed  and  trem 
bled,  and  felt  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  kiss  the  sweet 
pouting  lips  and  fold  the  pleading  woman  to  his  heart. 


BLAME    THYSELF.  35 

A  moment's  hesitation  would  have  made  him  her  slave ; 
but  he  did  not  hesitate.  Though  troubled  and  quivering 
through  all  his  being,  he  gently  removed  the  small  hands 
which  would  have  bound  him,  lifted  his  hat,  and  without 
a  word  made  her  a  parting  salutation  with  it. 

The  high,  uncompromising  hat  typified  the  man's  de 
termination.  She  looked  at  Nathaniel,  and  then  gave  up 
the  battle.  He  was  ascending  the  steps  of  the  terrace ; 
she  realized  that  she  had  totally  failed.  Then  a  storm  of 
anger  and  scorn  overwhelmed  her ;  and  as  she  could  not 
relieve  herself  in  speech,  she  followed  Nathaniel's  slow  but 
determined  steps  with  a  railing  song,  — 

"  A  brewer  may  be  a  Parliament  man, 
For  there  the  knavery  first  began, 
And  brew  most  cunning  plots  he  can, 
Which  nobody  can  deny." 

Nathaniel  was  but  a  few  steps  before  her,  but  he  neither 
hurried  his  pace  nor  looked  behind,  though  the  mocking 
words  followed  him  with  a  shrill  intensity,  — 

"  A  brewer  may  be  as  bold  as  Hector, 
Tipsy-bold  with  his  own  nectar, 
A  brewer  may  be  a  Lord  Protector, 
Which  nobody  can  deny." 

Nathaniel  was  as  one  who  heard  not.  He  turned  from 
the  terrace  into  the  courtyard  with  the  saucy  tones  ring 
ing  in  his  ears,  and  was  thankful  to  find  his  horse  saddled 
and  ready  to  mount. 

A  great  depression  had  fallen  upon  him.  He  galloped 
furiously  from  the  place  ;  he  felt  the  stress  of  a  man  flee 
ing  for  his  life.  His  heart  ached  for  the  woman  he  had 
just  left ;  and  his  conscience,  —  that  unseen  judge,  — • 
accused,  accused,  and  accused  him.  Of  what  folly  and 
self-sufficiency  he  had  been  guilty  !  At  that  hour  he  un 
derstood  why  David  asked  to  be  delivered  from  "  pre- 


36  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

sumptuous  sins."  The  Holy  One  had  taught  men  to  ask 
"  Lead  us  not  into  temptation  ;  "  but  Nathaniel  knew  that 
he  had  defied  and  dallied  with  temptation,  and  if  he  had 
escaped,  it  was  as  a  bird  from  the  snare  of  the  fowler. 
The  fear  of  the  struggle  was  still  on  him ;  and  though  he 
rode  hard,  conscience  was  never  behind  him.  To  al/ 
his  excuses  it  had  the  one  inexorable  answer,  "  Blame 
thyself." 


III. 

"THE  WAY  TO  REST." 

"  Christian  saw  the  picture  of  a  very  grave  person,  and  this  was  the 
fashion  of  it :  It  had  eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  its  hand, 
the  law  of  Truth  was  written  upon  its  lips,  the  world  was  behind  its  back, 
it  stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with  men,  and  a  crown  of  gold  did  hang  over  its 
head." 

"  Gathered  from  many  sects  the  Quaker  brought 
His  old  beliefs ;  adjusting  to  the  thought 
That  moved  his  soul  the  creed  his  fathers  taught : 
One  faith  alone,  so  broad  that  all  mankind 
Within  themselves  its  secret  witness  find,  — 
The  soul's  communion  with  the  Eternal  Mind  ; 
The  Spirit's  Law  —  the  Inward  Rule  and  Guide." 

"DEYOND  Milnthorpe  village  Nathaniel  came  in  sight 
^~*  of  the  woods  which  encircled  Sandys  Hall.  He 
had  been  dimly  conscious  through  all  his  spiritual  turmoil 
of  the  glory  of  the  setting  sun  and  the  clouds  floating  and 
burning  in  the  west  with  the  hue  of  a  carmine-coloured 
flame ;  but  when  he  passed  through  the  park  gates  the 
splendour  had  faded  away,  and  the  cumulus  masses  lay 
dead  and  ghostly  in  the  cold  gray  air.  The  silent,  colour 
less  land  SQpne  added  its  pathos  to  his  troubled  mood ; 
and  some  strange  sympathy  with  it  made  him  draw  rein 
and  give  his  weary  horse  permission  to  walk  soberly 
through  the  wooded  avenues.  They  were  already  misty 
with  the  vapours  from  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  and  to 
his  excited  mind  were  full  of  images  as  mysterious  and 
incoherent  as  the  background  of  dreams. 


38  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

When  he  came  within  sight  of  the  house  he  forgot  him 
self  in  the  sad  fate  of  its  old  possessors.  For  the  last  of 
the  family  had  fallen  in  the  battle  of  Marston  Moor,  fight 
ing  for  the  king,  and  the  estate  had  subsequently  been 
sold  by  the  Puritan  Parliament  to  Roger  Prideaux,  a 
wealthy  goldsmith  of  Paul's  Walk,  London.  Roger  was 
a  Westmoreland  man ;  and  the  hope  of  his  heart,  as  he 
saw  his  wealth  increasing,  had  ever  been  to  buy  a  home 
in  some  sweet  valley  of  his  native  county.  The  fact  that 
there  was  no  heir  to  Sandys,  and  that  he  would  not  there 
fore  be  dwelling  in  the  rooms  of  any  unfortunate  living 
man,  decided  him  in  the  purchase  of  Sandys  Hall. 

He  had  shown  a  singular  respect  and  even  tenderness 
toward  its  original  holders.  The  portrait  of  the  last. 
Sandys  still  hung  in  its  place  over  the  hearthstone  of  the 
great  dining-hall.  The  furniture  had  been  renovated  and 
not  removed ;  the  ornaments  and  pictures,  though  many 
of  them  objectionable  to  Puritan  taste,  were  still  in  their 
places.  Sometimes  he  had  thought  of  casting  the  latter 
away;  but  the  pictured  faces  had  always  pleaded  for 
themselves,  and  in  the  ornaments  his  daughter  Olivia 
found  pleasure.  And  if  Olivia  saw  no  harm  in  the  Indian 
gold  and  silver  work,  the  sandal-wood  and  ivory  carvings, 
surely  there  could  be  none ;  for  Olivia  had  a  virgin  con 
science,  pure  as  the  snow  and  clear  as  the  light. 

Nathaniel  remembered  very  well  the  young  Lord  San 
dys.  The  night  before  he  left  the  home  which  was  to  see 
him  no  more  forever,  Nathaniel  met  him  upon  the  road 
which  he  had  just  traversed.  Where  in  all  the  universe 
of  God  was  the  young  man  now  ?  It  was  with  this  sol 
emn  thought  in  his  heart  that  Nathaniel  reached  the  door 
of  the  house.  Roger  Prideaux  met  him  there.  He  was 
a  spare  man  of  medium  height,  with  the  shrewd  face  of  a 
successful  tradesman.  But  his  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  a 


"  THE    WA  Y  TO  REST."  39 

mystic,  —  wistful,  speculative,  so   full   of  light  that  the 
dropped  eyelids  were  almost  transparent. 

"  Nathaniel,  thee  is  welcome.  I  have  been  thinking 
prayerfully  of  thee  all  this  afternoon." 

"  I  confess  that  I  needed  it.  I  have  been  too  blind  to 
go  right,  and  too  presumptuous  to  stand  still.  But  I  ob 
serve  that  you  have  many  lights,  and  the  appearance  of 
company." 

"  We  have  Friends  here  this  night  whom  thou  hast 
wished  to  know." 

Then  he  led  Nathaniel  to  a  room  on  the  ground  floor 
which  he  had  often  occupied,  and  a  servant  brought  him 
his  saddle-bag.  And  he  was  not  sorry  to  reflect  that  this 
bag  contained  a  handsome  change  of  clothing ;  for  he  no 
ticed  in  crossing  the  hall  that  many  people  were  passing 
up  the  great  staircase  of  polished  oak,  —  beautiful  women 
in  shining  satins,  with  their  hands  lightly  resting  on  the 
arms  of  their  husbands  or  lovers.  And  he  thought  of  the 
excellently  beautiful  Olivia,  and  felt  that  the  utmost  nicety 
of  apparel  was  but  the  most  obvious  of  duties  if  a  man 
ventured  into  her  presence. 

When  he  left  his  room  Roger  Prideaux  was  waiting 
to  offer  him  the  sunset  meal.  "  We  have  eaten  already," 
he  said ;  "  but  thou  must  have  something  to  strengthen 
the  flesh,  for  it  cannot  feed  at  that  table  where  the 
spirit  waits  and  is  satisfied." 

"  To  say  truth,  I  am  in  a  hungry  humour,  Roger,  and 
at  this  present  the  pullet  and  white  wine  are  extremely 
tempting." 

"Thou  hast  been  to  London,  I  know." 

"I  have." 

"And  thou  hast  seen  Oliver  Cromwell?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  him." 

thou  sawcst  a  man  who  has  had  many  secret 


4O  FRIEND   OLIVIA, 

conflicts  and  baptisms,  but  who  when  the  time  of  trial 
came  has  not  been  able  to  stand  to  the  unfoldings  of 
duty." 

"  I  think  surely  that  he  has  done  great  things  for 
England." 

"  If  thou  wouldst  remember  how  many  of  God's  peo 
ple  are  buried  alive  in  holes  and  dungeons :  hearts 
broken,  homes  desolate,  men  and  women  of  whom  the 
world  is  not  worthy  suffering  daily  scourgings  and  op 
pressions  !  And  he  whom  we  have  made  Protector  cares 
for  none  of  these  things." 

"  Cromwell  is  beset  on  every  hand.  Give  him  time ; 
he  will  right  all  these  wrongs." 

"  But  thou  knowest  in  such  grave  matters  the  instant 
time  is  the  fittest  time." 

"  I  have  seen  this,  Roger,  that  the  Quakers  are  a  sort 
of  men  very  impatient  and  unreasonable.  They  will 
have  their  own  way,  even  though  it  run  against  law  and 
custom  and  all  men's  liking  for  it.  They  preach  peace, 
but  their  lives  provoke  to  a  constant  breach  of  the  peace  ; 
and  they  stand  so  stiff  in  their  own  judgment  that  no 
man  can  convince  them  otherwise." 

"  I  am  right  glad  of  it.  And  if  it  please  God,  prisons 
shall  be  schools  for  prophets  and  nurseries  of  strong 
men  in  Christ  Jesus." 

"  Three  thousand  Quakers  are  now  in  prison,  Roger. 
If  they  are  indeed  bearers  of  a  true  message,  how  can 
they  deliver  it?  Even  the  Word  must  fail,  if  it  have 
not  way." 

"  The  Word  will  run  to  and  fro  till  it  fill  the  earth. 
Three  thousand  prisoners  can  do  nothing ;  but  God  and 
three  thousand  prisoners  can  do  all  things." 

"  I  doubt  it  not.  But  it  seemeth  to  me  that  the  way 
of  moderation  is  better  than  the  way  of  martyrdom. 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  41 

While  I  was  in  London  a  Quaker  entered  the  Protector's 
presence  in  Whitehall.  He  uncovered  not  his,  head, 
he  used  not  the  commonest  civility,  and  he  rated  Oliver 
as  Elijah  rated  the  wicked  Ahab.  My  Lord  Stanley  told 
me  that  the  Protector  was  patient  with  him,  and  when 
it  came  to  Scripture  routed  him  with  his  own  weapon. 
And  when  he  saw  that  the  Protector  could  give  him 
verse  for  verse  he  argued  no  longer,  but  he  took  from, 
his  pouch  a  linen  cap,  and  tore  it  in  two  with  a  stern 
passion,  saying,  'Thus  shall  the  Lord  rend  the  kingdom 
from  thee  and  from  thy  family.'  Men  like  not;  to  be 
prophesied  against ;  and  they  judge  Cromwell  wide  of 
the  mark  who  think  he  can  be  terrified  into  any  course* 
of  action." 

"  Nathaniel,  when  thou  hast  the  true  wisdom  thoii; 
wilt  speak  more  wisely." 

Then  the  conversation  turned  to  more  personal  mat 
ters,  and  soon  flagged  a  little ;  for  Nathaniel  saw  that 
Roger  Prideaux's  heart  was  not  with  him.  As  they  left 
the  room  they  passed  a  long  panel-mirror,  and  the  young 
man  glanced  at  his  figure  in  it.  His  black  doubkt  and 
white-laced  band,  his  breeches  with  a  black  :ribbon  at 
the  knees,  his  silk  stockings,  and  low  shoes  fastened; 
with  silver  latchets,  set  off  in  a  noble  fashion  his,  Sne 
form  and  spiritual  face.  And  there  was  an  expression 
about  the  lips  which  strengthened  it  pleasantly;  for 
Nathaniel  judged  rightly  that  he  was  to  be  brought 
under  the  influence  of  Quaker  doctrines,  and  he  was 
fully  making  up  his  mind  to  keep  his  own  convictions 
intact. 

They  crossed  the  main  hall  and  ascended  the  stairs 
to  a  large  and  lofty  parlour  on  the  next  floor.  It  was 
well  filled  ;  and  the  company  were  mostly  of  Nathaniel's 
own  social  class,  known  to  him  as  men  know  one  an- 


42  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

other  who  live  within  certain  boundaries,  and  who  meet 
on  market-days  and  on  Sabbath-days  with  the  same 
motives.  There  was  Squire  Godlee,  and  Squire  Salkeld, 
and  the  young  heir  D'Acre  with  his  two-months'  bride, 
and  the  Rev.  John  Duttred,  the  Independent  minister, 
and  old  Captain  Zoltone,  Edmond  Heron,  Gilbert  Lam 
pion,  and  Walter  Grandale,  all  middle-aged  soldiers, 
with  the  scars  of  battle  upon  them. 

Nathaniel  saw  all  these  as  he  entered,  but  only  as 
background  to  two  other  personalities.  One  was  Olivia 
Prideaux.  She  sat  apart  from  the  rest  within  the  em 
brasure  of  a  projecting  window.  Her  hands  lay  listlessly 
in  her  lap ;  she  was  doing  nothing ;  she  was  not  even 
listening.  But  there  was  a  wonderful  light  on  her  calm 
face,  the  faint  bright  smile  of  one  who  thinks  much  of 
heaven  and  of  all  sweet,  innocent  things.  For  Olivia 
Prideaux  had  those  vehement  longings  after  God  which 
spring  up  in  young  hearts.  She  delighted  to  go  apart, 
to  close  all  avenues  of  sense,  to  retire  into  those  unseen 
depths  of  the  spirit  wherein  lies  the  image  of  God; 
because  she  had  found,  even  in  childhood,  that  part 
of  our  finite  nature  which  borders  on  the  infinite,  that 
gate  through  which  God  enters  in  to  dwell  with  man. 

She  did  not  perceive  the  approach  of  her  father  and 
Nathaniel.  After  a  moment's  hesitation  Roger  Prideaux 
passed  her  without  a  word,  and  Nathaniel  felt  con 
strained  to  the  same  course.  Then  he  looked  at  the 
group  toward  which  he  was  advancing,  but  mainly  at 
the  man  who  sat  in  a  large  chair  on  one  side  of  the 
blazing  fire.  The  majestic  figure,  the  noble  sweetness 
of  the  face,  the  luxuriant  hair,  —  not  cut  short,  Puritan 
fashion,  but  falling  upon  the  shoulders,  with  a  slight 
natural  curl  in  it,  —  the  impressive  manner  in  which 
he  was  speaking,  and  the  rapt  attention  of  those  who 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  43 

listened  to  his  words,  made  an  instant  impression  upon 
Nathaniel. 

Duttred  leaned  against  the  high  chimney-piece  with 
a  disputatious  aspect.  D'Acre  rested  his  hand  upon 
the  back  of  his  bride's  chair,  and  his  face  reflected  the 
light  on  the  speaker's.  The  rest  of  the  men  were  in 
different  attitudes,  but  they  were  all  standing.  The 
women  had  drawn  their  seats  in  a  circle  round  the 
hearth.  Men  and  women  alike  were  in  Puritan  dress. 
Some,  however,  had  discarded  the  lace  wrist-falls  and 
neckbands,  and  wore  their  silk  or  velvet  or  broadcloth 
without  trimming  of  any  kind,  save  the  spotless  lawn 
kerchiefs  covering  the  bosoms  of  the  women  and  the 
throats  of  the  men.  .^ 

"  George,"  said  Roger  Prideaux,  when  they  reached 
the  side  of  the  speaker,  "  this  is  my  neighbour,  Na 
thaniel  Kelder." 

Then  George  Fox  rose  and  took  Nathaniel's  hand, 
and  gazed  at  him  with  those  piercing  eyes  which  more 
than  one  judge  found  themselves  unable  to  bear.  "  I  have 
heard  of  thee,  Nathaniel,"  he  said ;  "  now  I  see  thee, 
and  of  the  rest  God  will  take  care."  As  he  spoke  he 
looked  at  Nathaniel  and  he  loved  him,  and  there  came 
into  both  men's  faces  that  mysterious  something  which 
is  the  recognition  and  salutation  of  souls.  This  incident 
scarcely  interrupted  the  conversation.  Slowly  relin 
quishing  Nathaniel's  hand,  Fox  sat  down  and  turned 
his  solemnly  radiant  face  upon  Duttred. 

"  Thee  must  not  say  that  this  doctrine  of  the  indwell 
ing  Christ  is  a  new  one.  Oh,  no  !  To  it  give  all  the 
Scriptures  witness.  This  is  that  divine  change  described 
by  Paul,  when  he  exclaims,  '  I  live ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me.'  This  is  that  Divine  union  which  Christ 
willeth,  '  I  in  them,  and  Thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be 


44  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

made  perfect  in  one.'  This  is  that  glorious  fellowship 
promised  :  '  If  a  man  love  me,  .  .  .  my  Father  will  love 
him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode 
with  him.'  Christ  in  us,  the  beauty  of  holiness,  the  hope 
of  glory,  —  this  is  the  keynote  of  the  Gospel." 

The  wonderful  magnetism  of  Fox's  voice,  charged 
with  faith,  thrilling  with  love,  broke  into  the  stillness 
of  Olivia's  soul.  She  moved  like  a  spirit,  and  laying 
one  hand  on  the  back  of  Fox's  chair,  said  with  an  in 
vincible  conviction,  — 

"  We  know  that  this  testimony  is  true.  You  have 
heard,  Friends,  how  the  bird  halcyon  has  ordained  for 
it  a  week  of  wondrous  calm  when  the  year  is  at  its  wild 
est  and  roughest.  iThen  upon  the  waves  she  builds  her 
nest.  Christ  within  us  !  In  this  hope  the  soul  builds 
for  herself  a  marvellous  covert,  which  not  only  floats 
upon  the  waves  of  time,  but  charms  them  into  stillness ; 
so  that  in  the  very  heart  of  storms  our  souls  enjoy  the 
halcyon  days." 

She  spoke  in  a  rapture  of  peace.  Her  voice  was 
low  and  even,  and  had  the  softness  and  remoteness  of 
dreams.  Her  face  was  illumined  from  the  light  within. 
Nathaniel's  heart  trembled  with  joy  that  was  as  pure  as 
it  was  indefinable.  At  that  moment  he  thought  nothing 
of  the  girl's  personal  loveliness  :  it  was  her  pure  soul 
that  charmed  his  soul,  and  he  longed  to  hold  com 
munion  with  it. 

After  a  moment's  pause  Duttred  said  querulously, 
"This  is  going  too  far.  It  gives  to  our  vile  bodies  tOT 
much  honour." 

"John  Duttred,"  Fox  answered,  "who  gave  thee  per 
mission  to  speak  spitefully  of  the  body?     It  is  easy  to 
call  the  body  '  vile  '  and  then  use  it  vilely.     But  we  have 
this  treasure  in  earthen  vessels,  and  our  bodies  are  the 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  45 

temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  he  that  hath  this  hope 
purifieth  himself,  and  feareth  to  defile  the  sacred  place. 
We  must  go  into  the  depths  of  our  nature,  John,  for  our 
repugnance  to  give  the  body  its  due.  Is  it  not  sensu 
ality?  Men  who  would  not  wrong  their  souls  by  steal 
ing,  or  by  listening  to  a  Pelagian  tenet,  eat  and  drink 
and  riot  like  pagans.  But  Christ  redeemed  the  body 
with  his  own  body." 

"  Can  the  Spirit  of  God  dwell  with  the  spirit  of 
man?" 

Duttred  spoke  with  a  scornful  incredulity ;  for  though 
religious  and  faithful  to  his  convictions,  he  was  full  of 
personal  jealousy,  and  therefore  unsympathetic.  "  This 
is  a  strange  doctrine,  Mr.  Fox." 

"  It  would  be  a  stranger  one,  John  Duttred,  if  the 
Creator,  in  whom  '  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our 
being,'  should  not  have  direct  access  to  the  spirit  of  his 
own  creatures." 

"  There  are  no  faculties  of  our  mortal  nature  adapted 
for  such  intercourse.  The  Church  has  no  service  or 
provision  for  it." 

"  Such  secret  favours  dispense  with,  rather  than  de 
mand,  mortal  aid  or  service.  Oh,  John  !  thee  hast  not 
known  the  prayer  of  union,  when  the  soul  enters  into 
the  sweet,  solemn  solitudes  of  the  Divinity,  and  sees  and 
hears  and  feels  unutterable  things.  In  these  preludiums 
of  heaven,  these  neighbourhoods  of  eternity,  a  mortal 
man  may  have  such  glimpses  of  God  that  whether  he 
be  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  he  cannot  tell." 

"  I  enter  into  no  controversy  touching  things  too  high 
for  me.  No  creed  has  taken  knowledge  of  such  a  con 
dition,  no  church  provided  for  it.  Even  the  Fifth  Mon 
archy  Men,  who  pretend  to  understand  Daniel  and  the 
Revelation  as  well  as  the  Ten  Commandments  and  the 


46  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Lord's  Prayer,  fly  not  so  high  as  this.  The  Church 
around  us  is  our  best  hope  and  protection." 

"  The  Church  around  us  !  Very  well,  John ;  but  also 
Christ  within  us  !  " 

"  If  this  doctrine  be  true,  it  is  too  much  truth.  Men 
who  hold  it  are  self-hurters  if  they  speak  of  it;  and, 
truly,  I  blame  not  the  civil  power  for  its  controversy  with 
them.  When  men  say  that  Christ  is  in  them,  it  is  all 
one  with  saying  that  they  themselves  are  Christ." 

"  Oh,  no  !  We  are  nothing  ;  Christ  is  all.  And  what 
kind  of  controversy  is  martyrdom  ?  Doing  men  to  death 
is  not  arguing  with  them.  Moreover,  I  deny  the  civil 
power  the  right  to  touch  a  man's  conscience.  Con 
science  is  placed  out  of  sight ;.  it  is  neither  visible  nor 
tangible.  It  is  inaccessible  to  stripes.  It  cannot  be 
bound  in  prison.  While  wicked  magistrates  are  making 
the  body  suffer,  conscience  enjoys  the  Divinity.  How 
then,  John,  can  conscience  be  accountable  to  the  civil 
government?  Men  who  try  to  control  it  are  usurpers 
of  God's  own  right." 

"  Well,  I  know  not  what  Quakers  would  have ;  and  I 
wish  they  knew  themselves.  As  for  me,  the  old  religion 
is  good  enough." 

"  The  old  religion  !  John,  that  is  what  Quakers  want, 
—  the  religion  of  Christ,  and  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  the 
primitive  church." 

"The  Church  of  Christ,  which  is  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  —  " 

"  Is  within  us.  Its  real  enemies  are  within.  They  are 
spiritual,  and  must  be  fought  with  spiritual  weapons." 

"  In  a  word  then,  how  does  a  man  attain  to  this 
condition  of  union  with  the  Unseen?" 

"  By  faith ;  for  faith  is  the  victory  over  whatever  sepa 
rates  from  God.  Thou  knowest  what  men  have  done 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  47 

through  faith,  —  how  they  have  'subdued  kingdoms, 
wrought  righteousness,  obtained  promises,  stopped  the 
mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped 
the  edge  of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong, 
waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned  to  flight  the  armies  of  the 
aliens.'  If  faith  can  do  these  things,  and  more  also,  can 
it  not  open  the  door  of  the  soul  when  He  knocks,  and  say, 
'  Come  in  and  dwell  with  me  ?  '  Can  it  not  give  Him  the 
whole  heart,  and  enter  into  covenant  with  Him?  I  can 
tell,  for  I  have  felt  Him  nearer  to  me  than  breathing. 
He  has  beset  me  behind  and  before,  and  laid  His  hand 
upon  me." 

Fox  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  an  indescribable  majesty 
and  authority  clothed  him  as  with  a  garment.  His  face 
shone,  his  clear,  sweet  voice  penetrated  into  the  secret 
places  of  every  heart.  The  atmosphere  of  the  room 
trembled  to  spiritual  influence,  and  a  feeling  of  infinite 
tenderness  brooded  over  the  small  assembly.  Duttred 
stood  silent,  tears  were  in  his  downcast  eyes ;  and  when 
George  Fox  stepped  forward  and  offered  his  hand  he 
took  it  with  a  troubled,  questioning  look. 

"  We  are  made  poor  by  what  we  miss,  as  well  as  by 
what  we  lose,  John.  Go  into  thy  room  and  enter  into 
that  spiritual  communion  which  is  beyond  all  visibles. 
Open  the  door  of  thy  heart  and  ask  Christ  to  come  in 
and  dwell  with  thee.  Verily  he  will  keep  his  promise." 
And  as  Fox  stood  surety  for  his  Maker  he  lifted  up  his 
face,  and  it  grew  like  an  angel's ;  and  an  old  man  on 
the  outskirt  of  the  little  assembly  cried  out,  — 

"  It  is  true  !     It  is  true  !  " 

But  Duttred  said  coldly,  "  My  desire  is  to  stand  still 
at  present,  so  that  the  voice  of  the  stranger  be  not  taken 
for  the  voice  of  the  Shepherd.  Yet  I  will  not  flatly  con 
tradict  or  condemn  the  words  spoken,  lest  I  come  within 


48  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

the  apostle's  reproof  for  speaking  evil  of  things  I  under 
stand  not."  Then  looking  steadily  at  Fox,  he  said, 
"  Pray  for  me,  —  peradventure  I  am  wrong,  —  that  I 
may  be  led  right." 

"  John,  why  ask  any  man  to  pray  for  thee  ?  Abide  in 
thyself,  and  take  hold  on  thy  own  possession." 

Then  Duttred  explained  at  some  length  his  views  of 
the  Atonement,  and  the  necessity  for  a  formulated  creed 
and  a  regularly  trained  ministry.  But  after  Fox's  burning 
utterances  his  words  were  cold ;  for  he  spoke  of  Christ 
in  a  distant  way,  as  of  one  holding  the  central  place  in  a 
theological  system,  but  far  off  from  daily  love  and  life. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  answered  Fox.  "There  is  no  such  thing, 
John,  as  a  system  of  divinity  in  the  Bible.  Nothing 
there  but  a  living  record  of  personal  relations  between 
the  Creator  and  the  souls  he  has  made.  No  dogma  in 
all  the  book.  Only  human  life  touched  by  the  Spirit  of 
God ;  and  as  for  trained  ministers,  when  God  says  to 
a  man,  '  Preach  the  Gospel,'  he  needs  no  other  prepara 
tion  or  authority.  Schools  cannot  make  ministers,  and 
God  dwells  not  in  temples  made  with  hands.  '  I  was  no 
prophet,  neither  was  I  a  prophet's  son ;  but  I  was  ...  a 
gatherer  of  sycamore  fruit ; '  but  the  Lord  raiseth  the 
poor  out  of  the  dust." 

Then  the  conversation  turned  upon  Cromwell  and  his 
government ;  and  Fox  vindicated  Cromwell  in  many 
things,  and  set  lucidly  before  the  assembly  the  difficult 
part  the  Protector  had  to  play  between  all  the  sects  that 
were  then  claiming  recognition  for  themselves  and  per 
secution  for  all  others. 

"  In  the  high  noon  of  these  dog-days  of  our  religious 
discords,"  he  said,  "  things  are  done  and  spoken  which 
will  hardly  bear  reviewing  when  the  cool  of  the  evening 
shall  come.  Between  Thomas  Edwards  writing  furiously 


"  THE    WA  Y  TO  REST."  49 

against  liberty  of  conscience  and  toleration,  and  the 
Presbyterian  clergy  complaining  '  that  men  of  civil  em 
ployment  usurp  the  right  of  preaching,  to  the  great  scan 
dal  of  the  kirks,'  and  the  Church  of  England  men,  and 
the  Fifth  Monarchy  Men  with  Rogers  at  their  head,  and 
the  Independents,  and  other  sects  too  numerous  to  men 
tion,  what  is  the  Protector  to  do?  And  I  think  well 
of  him  for  the  plain  words  he  gave  the  Presbyterians 
concerning  preaching." 

"  Doubtless  they  deserved  them,  whatever  they  were," 
said  Duttred  ;  "  but  I  know  them  not." 

"  Truly,  he  answered  their  complaint  with  some 
searching  questions  :  '  Are  you  troubled  that  Christ  is 
preached?  Is  preaching  so  exclusively  your  function? 
I  thought  the  Covenant  and  the  professors  of  it  could 
have  been  willing  that  any  should  speak  good  of  the 
name  of  Christ.  If  not,  I  say  plainly  that  it  is  no  cov 
enant  of  God's  approving,  nor  are  these  kirks  so  much 
the  spouse  of  Christ.  I  hope,'  he  farther  said,  'that 
He  that  ascended  up  on  high  may  give  His  gifts  to 
whom  He  pleases ;  and  if  those  gifts  be  the  seal  of  mis 
sion,  be  not  envious  though  Eldad  and  Medad  prophesy.' 
Are  not  these  words  like  himself,  —  strong,  stiff,  and 
unbendable  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  John  Milton  likewise  says  that  '  presbyter ' 
is  only  '  priest '  writ  large."     And  Duttred  spoke  with  a  • 
bitterness  that  made  Fox  look  steadily  at  him. 

"  A  good  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps," 
said  Roger  Prideaux  ;  "  and  what  say  you  to  Cromwell's? 
His  two  secretaries  are  John  Milton  and  Andrew  Marvell ; 
the  seraphic  John  Howe  is  his  chaplain ;  he  has  put 
Dr.  Owen  over  the  University  of  Oxford.  And  thou 
knowest,  George,  that  he  listened  gladly  to  thee,  and 
brought  thee  into  his  house,  and  desired  to  talk  with 

4 


JO  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

thee  again.  And  thou  wilt  allow  that  Friends  have  been 
a  little  demanding  with  him." 

"  Not  too  much  so,  Roger.  WThen  Friends  are  every 
where  robbed  and  beaten  to  the  death,  they  have  just 
cause  to  go  to  the  Protector  for  protection.  However, 
whether  he  speak  for  us  or  whether  he  forbear  to  speak, 
we  are  saved  by  Divine  alliance  from  any  danger  of 
defeat." 

The  company  then  began  to  leave,  for  most  of  them 
had  some  miles  to  ride  over  lonely  and  ill-kept  roads. 
Nathaniel  was  glad  of  the  peace  and  quiet  of  his  own 
room,  for  the  day  had  been  full  of  emotion  and  not  de 
void  of  physical  fatigue.  Yet  he  was  not  inclined  to 
sleep.  He  threw  some  logs  on  the  fire  and  sat  down 
before  their  blaze.  For  the  first  time  he  looked  curi 
ously  at  his  chair,  —  a  large  one  of  carved  oak,  covered 
with  Spanish  leather.  The  gilding  was  worn,  the  leather 
had  lost  its  brightness  and  curious  stampings.  It  showed 
use,  and  he  began  to  speculate  about  the  men  and 
women  who  had  sat  in  it.  His  eyes  roved  from  the 
chair  to  the  great  bed  with  its  sombre  tapestry  curtains. 
What  fingers  had  worked  the  gigantic  shadowy  figures 
that  lurked  among  their  folds?  Here  and  there  a  sword 
or  a  buckler  in  lighter  silks  gleamed  out  with  a  stubborn 
distinctness  which  was  almost  uncanny.  The  inanimate 
.  furniture  revealed  in  the  midnight  a  sort  of  personality. 
He  could  not  but  imagine  the  men  and  women  who  had 
known  the  room  before  him,  and  who  had  gone  away 
forever.  The  empty  chairs,  the  dim  vast  couch,  the 
little  tapestry  stool  on  the  hearth,  —  each  and  all  had  a 
lonely,  mournful  look,  as  pathetic  and  distinctive  as  that 
which  hangs  around  a  grave.  He  felt  that  the  house 
preserved,  like  a  book,  the  memory  of  those  who  had 
lived  in  it. 


u  THE    WAY  TO  REST."  51 

Into  this  melancholy  atmosphere  there  came  suddenly 
the  memory  of  Anastasia,  —  the  mocking,  brilliant  face, 
the  scornful  voice,  the  laughter  which  he  could  now  feel 
was  but  a  thin  veil  for  her  anxiety.  He  lived  ever  those 
moments  of  temptation,  and  his  face  burned,  and  he  felt 
an  intolerable  shame  in  his  own  weakness  and  cowardice. 
He  recalled  the  flight  of  his  fearful  soul  up  those  ter 
raced  steps,  and  the  heaviness  of  the  body  which  so  re 
luctantly  followed  it.  Then  he  began  to  speculate  on 
the  assurance  that  "  there  is  a  spirit  in  man,"  and  to 
compare  it  with  the  opinion  of  the  Platonists,  "  that  in 
all  minds  there  is  concealed  a  spark  of  the  same  wisdom 
that  exists  in  the  Supreme  Being,"  —  the  inward  light 
of  Quakerism;  the  light  " which  lighteth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world ;  "  the  divine  light  higher 
than  knowledge,  higher  than  grace,  higher  than  love, 
which  is  only  satisfied  with  that  unity  where  no  man 
dwelleth. 

Hitherto  he  had  lived  on  the  outside  of  himself,  —  in 
his  intellect  and  reason  and  senses.  Now  he  let  every 
thing  go,  —  reasoning,  willing,  hoping,  fearing,  —  and  lost 
himself  in  a  simple  sense  of  this  immediate  God,  so  sel 
dom  sought,  yet  always  so  passionately  longing  to  be 
sought  and  to  bless;  lost  himself  until  the  experience 
became  more  real  to  him  than  house  or  home  or  sun 
or  stars.  He  knew  not  how  long  he  sat  thus,  but  he 
rose  trembling  and  awed  with  the  revelation  of  this 
new  capability  of  his  nature.  It  brought  him  as  yet  no 
exaltation,  only  a  solemn,  dreadful  reverence,  mingled 
with  an  excessive  physical  chill  and  weariness.  He  lay 
down  and  slept  heavily,  and  did  not  awake  in  the  morn 
ing  until  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens.  The  house 
was  very  still.  He  dressed  and  went  into  the  dining- 
room  and  found  that  the  morning  meal  was  long  over, 


52  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

and  that  Roger  Prideaux  had  gone  with  George  Fox 
to  Ulverstone. 

A  servant  brought  him  bread  and  meat  and  wine,  and 
he  ate  and  drank  with  an  eager  appetite.  The  food 
refreshed  him  physically,  and  made  him  able  to  grasp 
the  spiritual  blessing  that  had  come  to  him,  and  to  feel 
its  power  and  strength. 

Then  the  bright  sunshine,  and  the  singing  birds,  and 
all  the  pleasant  sounds  and  scents  of  Nature  spoke  to 
him,  and  he  went  into  the  garden  to  enjoy  them  the 
better;  also,  he  longed  to  see  Olivia  before  leaving 
Sandys,  and  he  hoped  to  find  her  there.  But  the  sweet 
alleys  of  pleached  beeches  were  all  empty  of  human  life. 
The  box  and  the  privet  hedges,  and  all  the  green  pal 
aces  of  the  cherry-trees  were  full  of  twittering  birds,  but 
in  none  of  the  pleasant  garden-ways  could  he  find  the 
fair  woman  he  wished  to  see. 

Presently,  however,  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  be 
yond  the  hedge,  and  he  looked  into  the  meadows  and 
saw  her  there.  She  had  two  of  her  maids  with  her,  and 
they  were  gathering  flowers.  In  a  few  moments  he 
was  by  her  side.  Her  apron  was  full  of  cowslips,  and 
she  opened  it  and  let  him  press  his  face  to  the  dewy, 
scented  little  blossoms. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  them  into  wine,  Nathaniel. 
Hast  thou  ever  tasted  cowslip  wine?  It  is  like  the  dew 
of  spring.  I  think  it  hath  the  sunshine  in  it,  and  the 
scent  of  daisies  and  buttercups.  My  father  thinketh  it 
to  be  a  good  cordial.  He  went  out  early  this  morning, 
he  and  Friend  George  Fox.  George  felt  drawn  toward 
Ulverstone,  and  my  father  was  clear  to  go  with  him." 

They  talked  of  many  things  as  they  went  through  the 
long  grass,  but  Nathaniel  was  like  a  man  in  a  happy 
dream.  All  his  life  after,  he  could  recall  the  feeling  of 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  53 

the  turf  under  his  feet  and  the  fresh  wind  blowing  across 
his  face.  He  stopped  to  listen  to  her' innocent  talk  of 
a  robin's  nest  which  she  had  seen,  and  the  great  bed 
of  violets  under  the  oak  tree,  which  she  had  not  pulled, 
because  they  looked  so  happy  in  its  shadow.  He  could 
find  nothing  to  compare  her  to.  He  could  pay  her  no 
compliments.  She  was  exquisitely  lovely  and  graceful  and 
gracious,  but  he  felt  it  to  be  impossible  to  tell  her  so. 

When  they  came  to  the  house  they  went  into  the  large 
room  where  Nathaniel  had  eaten.  She  took  off  her  hood 
and  sat  down  with  the  flowers  in  her  lap,  and  their  deli 
cate  field-sweet  perfume  drifted  between  them.  Then 
she  hid  her  hands  in  their  golden  freshness,  and  her  face 
caught  a  kind  of  glory  from  their  colour.  Nathaniel 
thought  her  the  loveliest  flower  of  humanity  that  he  had 
ever  seen.  Usually  it  was  an  easy  delight  to  talk  with 
her,  but  this  morning  she  appeared  inclined  to  stillness ; 
and  he  even  imagined  that  there  was  an  expression 
of  fear  or  anxiety  in  her  eyes  when  she  lifted  them 
suddenly. 

Once,  as  she  did  so,  they  rested  on  the  likeness  over 
the  chimney-piece.  They  had  often  spoken  together 
kindly  of  the  dead  lord,  and  Nathaniel  felt  impelled  to 
describe  his  speculations  on  the  previous  evening  con 
cerning  the  family.  It  was  an  age  of  firm  belief  in 
ghostly  visitations,  and  the  most  reverent  souls  saw 
visions  and  dreamed  dreams.  There  were  few  large 
houses  without  their  traditionary  spiritual  tenants,  and 
to  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  it  seemed  quite  natural  that 
the  old  occupants  of  the  rooms  should  revisit  them. 
So  also,  when  she  looked  at  the  face  of  the  youth  who 
fell  at  Marston  Moor,  its  melancholy  beauty  and  the 
predestined  fate  in  its  far-seeing  eyes  touched  her  with 
a  peculiar  nearness  of  sympathy. 


54  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  The  world  we  cannot  see  is  always  blending  with  the 
world  we  can  see,  and  I  have  often  had  a  strange  feeling 
about  those  who  have  not  been  long  dead,  Nathaniel." 

"Tell  your  thought  to  me,  Olivia." 

"  It  is,  that  those  just  gone  cannot  have  gone  very  far 
away.  Dost  thou  think  that  I  presume  too  much?  " 

Nathaniel's  answer  was  prevented  by  the  entrance  of 
a  servant,  a  middle-aged  man  called  Asa  Bevin,  who  had 
been  with  Roger  some  years  in  London,  and  who  now 
filled  in  Sandys  the  post  of  house-steward. 

"  Olivia,"  he  said,  "  here  be  two  constables  from  Ken- 
dal,  men  of  Belial  both  of  them,  drunken  with  wine  and 
sin,  and  speaking  loud,  swelling  words  against  the  man 
thou  wotst  of." 

She  turned  pale,  but  calmly  answered,  "  Let  them  be 
brought  here  to  me,  Asa." 

At  the  moment,  without  permission,  entered  the  two 
rude,  half-tipsy  fellows,  whose  natural  bluster  had  been 
increased  by  visits  to  every  public-house  between  Kendal 
and  Sandys. 

Olivia  looked  at  the  advancing  men  with  a  steady 
face.  Nathaniel  rose  and  stood  beside  her.  His  atti 
tude  was  that  of  a  soul  alert  at  every  point,  but  he  knew 
not  the  business  of  the  interruption,  and  could  not  inter 
fere  without  reason.  Yet,  as  soon  as  he  looked  well  at 
the  officers,  he  divined  what  their  errand  must  be ;  and 
he  regarded  them  with  such  piercing  scorn  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  the  bolder  blustered  out, — 

"  Mistress  Prideaux,  it  is  not  you,  but  Master  Roger 
Prideaux,  we  would  see." 

"  My  father  is  not  at  home.  What  is  the  business  you 
come  on?" 

"  Well,  if  thou  must  know,  we  want  t'  man  who  came 
here  for  hiding  last  night ;  t'  man  called  John  Whitehead." 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST."  55 

"  He  came  not  here  last  night." 

"  That 's  a  put-off.  He  came  this  morning  then  ;  and 
it  is  like  enough,  seeing  that  he  is  a  proper-looking 
young  man,  that  you  have  hid  him  yourself,  Mistress." 

"  He  came  this  morning,  and  I  have  given  him  food 
and  shelter." 

"Then,  Mistress,  we  have  a  mittimus  for  his  arrest, 
and  a  warrant  to  search  the  house  for  him,  if  we  are 
restrained  in  our  duty.  Let  us  at  him,  or  it  will,  mayhap, 
be  the  worse  for  yourself." 

As  he  spoke  he  laid  his  hand  upon  Olivia's  arm,  and 
the  next  moment  Nathaniel  had  drawn  his  sword.  With 
the  flat  side  of  the  blade  he  struck  the  offending  hand, 
accompanying  the  blow  with  a  passionate  order  to  the 
men  to  remove  their  hats  in  the  presence  of  Mistress 
Pride  aux. 

"  The  Devil  take  you  for  a  Quaker  dog  !  Who  may 
you  be,  pray?  " 

"  I  am  Captain  Nathaniel  Kelder,  a  magistrate,  and 
one  that  stands  so  much  your  lord  as  to  see  that  you 
carry  yourselves  as  something  better  than  brute  beasts." 

"  We  are  in  our  duty,  and  while  in  it  we  fear  not  the 
face  of  clay." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  will  see  that  you  do  your  duty 
decently.  Show  me  your  papers." 

The  men  had  lived  in  plenty  and  had  held  petty  office 
for  some  years,  but  breed  is  more  than  pasture.  Their 
peasant  nature  cowered  before  the  higher  type,  and  with 
a  sulky  obedience  they  handed  the  writs  to  their  superior. 

"  Isaac  Sandal  signs  these,  I  see.  Isaac  Sandal  is  my 
cousin,  and  much  beholden  to  me.  Take  care  you  go 
not  one  inch  beyond  the  line  of  your  orders."  Then 
turning  to  Olivia,  he  said,  — 

"  Mistress  Pricleaux,  in  the  absence  of  your  father  you 


56  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

can  lawfully  withstand  these  demands,  but  this  is  within 
the  compass  of  your  wisdom." 

She  stood  a  few  moments  in  perfect  stillness ;  then 
crossing  the  rooih,  she  opened  a  door  and  said  clearly, 
"John,  thou  art  wanted.  Fear  not." 

Immediately  from  the  open  door  stepped  a  youth  of 
about  eighteen  years  of  age.  He  had  a  bright,  confident 
face,  and  a  refined,  gentle  manner,  and  he  answered 
cheerfully,  — 

"The  mercy  which  keeps  in  heights  and  in  depths, 
the  holy  Helper,  is  with  me." 

"  Help  may  not  come  till  the  last  moment,  John,  but 
thee  will  find  that  it  never  comes  too  late.  And  if  there 
is  a  bitter  cup  for  thee  to  drink,  remember  thy  Saviour, 
and  also  thy  brothers  Andrew  and  James,  who  perished 
unshaken  and  always  like  themselves,  after  so  many  cruel 
scourgings  and  crosses." 

As  she  spoke  the  hands  of  the  officer  were  on  him, 
and  he  began  to  lock  the  heavy  irons  about  his  wrists. 
Then  Nathaniel  said  angrily,  "  Leave  the  young  man  at 
liberty.  His  word  is  better  than  chains.  I  will  be  his 
satisfaction." 

"  Gad  !  that  signifies  nothing.     I  'm  not  so  off-at-side 
as  to  take  your  Honour's  word,  and  the  means  for  a  bond 
are  not  here,  nor  have  I  the  freedom  to  take  one." 
.  "  Fellow  !  " 

"  Better  not  call  me  out  of  my  name  that  way.  I  'm 
doing  my  duty." 

" On  whose  complaint  is  this  arrest?  " 

"  On  the  complaint  of  as  good  a  man  as  any  of  your 
bned.  Parson  Derby's  complaint." 

"What  hath  this  lad  done  against  the  priest?" 

"  Ask  him.  To  boast  of  his  sins  is  a  thing  a  Quaker 
likes  right  well." 


"THE    WAY  TO  REST?'  57 

"What  is  thy  fault,  John?  "  Olivia's  eyes  were  full  of 
pity  as  she  dropped  them  upon  the  lad's  manacled  wrists. 

"  I  spoke  to  the  people  in  the  fish-market  of  a  gospel 
free  from  rites  and  rituals,  and  of  the  indwelling  light 
which  sets  the  soul  face  to  face  with  God,  and  no  man- 
made  priest  between.  And  I  said  that  God  raises  up 
his  own  ministers,  and  they  dispense  his  Word  freely, 
making  no  bargains,  and  indeed  fearing  that  sinful  com 
merce  which  exchanges  heavenly  things  for  earthly  things. 
And  the  priest  railed  on  me,  and  swore  that  I  hindered 
his  lawful  tithes,  which  were  secured  to  him  by  the  Leviti- 
cal  law.  But  I  told  him  that  if  he  went  back  so  far  he 
must  take  notice  that  under  that  law  not  only  the  priests, 
but  the  fatherless  and  the  widow  and  the  stranger  had 
their  share  of  the  tithes.  And  with  that  his  fury  was 
great,  and  he  set  the  people  on  me  with  stones,  and 
there  was  a  riot ;  but  in  the  midst  of  it  three  or  four  men 
made  a  wall  for  me,  and  I  escaped." 

"  Ay,  and  thou  saidst  a  deal  more  of  t'  same  make ; 
and  it  would  have  been  a  famous  thing  if  thou  had  been 
trampled  under  t'  feet  of  good  honest  churchmen,  —  that 
I  say.  But  my  song  !  thou  shall  run  to  thy  deserts  now, 
for  I  '11  tie  thee  to  my  mare,  and  she  will  keep  thy  feet 
so  busy  that  thy  tongue  will  have  a  bit  of  rest,  mayhap. 
It 's  high  time,  I  '11  go  bail  for  that !  " 

"  I  will  ride  to  Kendal  with  you,"  said  Nathaniel. 
"  And  I  will  take  care  that  you  exceed  not  your  warrant, 
which  is  to  bring  John  Whitehead  in  safety.  And  you 
shall  set  the  young  man  on  your  horse  and  lead  the 
horse  yourself,  for  I  will  ride  at  your  side  and  put  my 
sword  against  your  malice  ;  and  if  there  is  any  grievance 
in  the  matter,  I  will  answer  to  my  cousin  Sandal  and  the 
priest  for  it.  Come  !  I  am  in  haste,  and  will  be  gone 
at  once." 


58  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"When  Mistress  Prideaux  has  given  us  some  ale  and 
some  bread  and  meat  we  will  take  the  road." 

"  By  troth  and  faith  !  you  will  take  the  road  this  very 
minute.  I  will  stop  neither  for  meat  nor  drink." 

Nathaniel  was  in  a  towering  passion,  though  he  re 
strained  its  violence,  bridling  and  bitting  it  with  a  com 
posure  and  a  slow  sternness  of  speech  that  cowed  the 
craven  bullies  into  a  sulky  obedience  to  his  orders.  He 
turned  to  Olivia  as  he  left  the  room  and  met  her  kindling 
glance  with  one  of  tender  assurance,  and  her  eyes  thanked 
him  without  a  word.  Silently  they  went  to  the  door 
together.  Nathaniel's  horse  was  ready  saddled,  and  it 
was  brought  with  those  belonging  to  the  two  constables. 
He  saw  John  Whitehead  placed  upon  one  of  these,  and 
then  leaped  upon  his  own  animal. 

At  that  moment  Olivia  stepped  swiftly  to  the  side  of 
the  prisoner.  "  John,"  she  said,  "  this  is  the  price  of 
eternal  peace.  Is  it  too  great  for  thee  ?  " 

"  We  must  all  pay  the  price  or  go  empty  away.  I  am 
thankfully  willing.  What  should  it  profit  if  I  gained  a  few 
years  and  lost  immortal  life?  " 

" '  Look  for  thy  Shepherd,  he  shall  give  thee  everlasting 
rest ;  for  he  is  nigh  at  hand,  that  shall  come  in  the  end 
of  the  world.'  "  1 

"  '  I  testify  my  Saviour  openly.'  "  2 

As  she  spoke  Asa  Bevin  joined  them.  He  carried  a 
silver  cup  full  of  wine,  and  Olivia  took  it  in  her  hands  and 
raised  it  to  the  lips  of  the  youth.  He  moved  his  mana 
cled  wrists  involuntarily,  and  then  bent  his  head.  With 
a  slight  effort  she  held  the  cup  while  he  drank.  Nathaniel 
saw  her  lifted  face,  saw  the  shadow  of  apprehended  mar 
tyrdom  in  her  pitiful  eyes,  the  rapture  of  apprehended 
glory  in  her  holy  smile.  He  commanded  by  his  look  and 
1  2  Esdras,  ii.  34.  2  Ibid.  36. 


"THE    WAY   TO  REST:'  59 

manner  an  absolute  pause  while  this  sacrament  of  sacred 
sympathy  lasted.  The  officers  stood,  still,  agape  and  si 
lent.  Asa,  with  bent  head,  murmured  a  half-audible 
prayer.  Nathaniel  sat  motionless,  looking  at  the  bound 
youth  and  the  ministering  maiden.  When  she  moved  the 
spell  broke,  the  picture  dissolved,  the  momentary  visita 
tion  was  over,  —  was  almost  as  if  it  had  not  been.  The 
constables  began  to  grumble  and  bluster. 

'•  Lend  me  a  nag,  Mistress  Prideaux,"  the  dismounted 
man  said.  "  I  can't  go  afoot  all  t'  way  to  Kendal.  I 
never  said  as  I  'd  make  t'  prisoner  do  it,  not  all  t'  way. 
Come,  Mistress,  it  will  be  raining  full  drive  afore  long." 

Nathaniel  answered  for  her :  "  I  will  have  you  step  as 
you  purposed  a  better  man  than  yourself  to  step.  .  Keep 
at  the  side  of  Master  Whitehead's  horse.  You  shall  go 
afoot  this  day,  if  you  never  do  it  again.  Mistress  Pri 
deaux,  fare  you  well !  "  He  lifted  his  hat  to  the  girl  he 
loved  so  dearly,  and  then  by  a  sharp  movement  of  his 
hand  indicated  the  order  of  the  journey. 

Olivia  watched  them  out  of  sight,  but  Nathaniel  never 
turned  his  head.  She  understood  the  intentness  of  his 
nature.  She  felt  it  to  be  right  that  his  heart  should  be 
wholly  set  upon  the  thing  he  had  resolved  to  do,  for  the 
work  was  in  the  way  of  mercy  and  justice.  It  was  the 
righteous  indignation  of  his  heart,  and  not  in  this  case  its 
love,  which  made  him  the  defender  of  the  helpless. 
Olivia  understood  this  and  she  thought  the  more  nobly 
of  him  for  it. 

She  sat  still  a  long  time,  musing  in  that  sympathy  which 
steals  upon  the  meditative  mind  and  grows  with  thought. 
Her  pale,  serious  face  and  eyes  of  religious  purity  showed, 
even  in  her  brooding  silence,  a  certain  misgiving.  She 
could  not  forbear  shaping  in  the  future  things  which  made 
her  heart  beat  quick  ;  for  never  until  that  morning  had  she 


60  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

thought  of  a  lover.  Her  life  was  yet  a  virgin  wilderness, 
but  Nathaniel  was  just  beginning  to  tinge  the  horizon  of 
her  thoughts. 

As  for  Nathaniel,  he  would  gladly  have  kept  silence  and 
recalled  every  word  she  had  spoken  and  every  expression 
which  had  flitted  across  her  face ;  but  he  had  1  jng 
taught  himself  to  subject  desire  to  duty,  and  he  believed 
it  to  be  his  duty  to  give  John  Whitehead  an  "  opportu 
nity."  So  he  encouraged  him  to  speak  of  that  wondrous 
communion  which  was  then  not  only  "  great "  but  also 
"  new  "  tidings.  His  own  heart  burned  by  the  way,  but 
it  was  all  "  foolishness  "  to  the  two  officers.  The  idea  of 
a  Christ  far  off  in  heaven  was  not  an  uncomfortable  one  ; 
but  a  Christ  in  their  own  souls,  illuminating  all  the  dark 
corners,  and  compelling  them  to  purify  themselves,  was 
terrifying.  Like  the  Gadarenes  of  old,  they  besought 
such  an  one  to  depart. 

The  conversation,  however,  so  interested  Nathaniel 
that  he  remained  in  Kendal  until  the  next  day,  hoping  to 
obtain  the  freedom  of  the  youth  ;  but  the  accusing  priest 
was  also  judge,  and  John  Whitehead's  imprisonment  was 
a  preordained  sentence.  Ironed  like  a  felon  he  was  sent 
to  Appleby  jail,  —  a  dreadful  dungeon,  dark,  damp,  filthy, 
and  fever-haunted. 

With  a.  heart  full  of  pity  Nathaniel  bade  him  fare 
well.  But  John  had  that  "joy  within  "  which  disdained 
to  take  into  account  any  outward  misery.  His  bright 
young  face  was  turned  toward  martyrdom,  but  he  laid  his 
chained  hands  in  Nathaniel's  hands,  and  said  joyfully,  — 

"  This  is  the  way  to  rest,  Nathaniel ;  this  is  the  way  to 
rest  forever !  " 


IV. 

JOHN  DE   BURG. 

"  About  some  act 
That  has  no  relish  of  salvation  in  't." 

"The  wicked  flee  when  no  man  pursueth." 

"  Of  all  the  virtues  justice  is  the  best ; 
Valour  without  it  is  a  common  pest. 
Pirates  and  thieves,  too  oft  with  courage  graced, 
Show  us  how  ill  that  virtje  may  be  placed." 

'"PHE  parting  between  Nathaniel  and  John  Whitehead 
•*•  was  in  Kendal  market-place.  It  was  raining  as  it 
only  does  rain  in  that  section  of  England,  —  full  drive, 
raining  and  ceasing,  and  then  beginning  again.  The  rifts 
in  the  black  clouds  threw  lines  of  cold,  steely  light  upon 
the  houses,  and  made  them  look  strange  and  gloomy. 
There  was  also  a  wuthering  wind  sobbing  through  the 
narrow  wet  streets,  and  the  natural  outlook  could  scarcely 
have  been  more  dreary  and  depressing. 

Nathaniel  forced  his  cloak  and  purse  upon  John,  heed 
ing  not  the  opinion  of  the  by-standers.  But,  indeed,  they 
were  singularly  sympathetic ;  for  the  heroic  calmness  of 
John  before  his  judge,  and  his  heavenly  resignation  in  the 
face  of  so  much  injustice,  engaged  the  pity  of  the  majority. 
Englishmen,  in  the  mass,  love  fair  play  above  everything, 
and  the  accusing  priest  for  a  judge,  with  a  jury  of  church 
wardens  and  church  officers,  did  not  strike  them  as  fair 
play ;  so  that  Nathaniel's  sympathy  was  in  the  main  quite 


62  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

acceptable  to  the  little  crowd  huddled  in  the  shelter  of 
the  archways  and  the  market-stalls.  For  a  man  really  in 
earnest  about  heaven  and  hell,  death  and  judgment,  may 
be  regarded  as  mad  and  an  object  of  pity,  but  he  is  never 
a  subject  for  contempt. 

Then  Nathaniel  turned  his  horse's  head  toward  Kel- 
derby.  He  galloped  with  a  savage  earnestness  of  pur 
pose,  and  Nathaniel  found  himself  setting  his  angry 
thoughts  to  the  rough  natural  music  of  the  beating  hoofs. 
He  stayed  for  a  few  moments  at  Sandys,  but  he  did  not 
alight.  He  fancied  that  Roger  was  constrained  and  cold 
in  his  invitation  to  do  so,  and  he  did  not  see  Olivia 
at  all. 

The  circumstance  troubled  him.  He  had  expected 
Roger  to  praise  him  for  his  partisanship,  and  for  the 
trouble  he  had  taken  in  the  affairs  of  a  persecuted 
Quaker.  He  had  expected,  —  and  he  thought  not  un 
justly,  —  that  Olivia  would  feel  an  interest  in  the  fate  of 
the  young  man  she  had  sheltered.  In  such  a  storm  it 
was  not  likely  she  would  be  from  home,  and  he  thought 
she  must  also  have  seen  his  approach.  But  he  was  judg 
ing  as  mortals  do  judge  from  the  presenting  side  of  events 
alone ;  and  in  this  case  the  influence  of  the  side  not  seen 
was '  not  only  undue  but  perplexing,  unprecedented,  and 
incommunicable.  In  fact  it  was  the  influence  of  Anastasia 
de  Burg,  though  exerted  in  a  way  outside  of  all  his  fears 
or  suspicions. 

For  Nathaniel's  refusal  to  aid  in  her  brother's  escape 
was  really  a  more  serious  disappointment  than  he  thought 
it  to  be.  Suspicion  follows  hard  upon  mistrust,  and  the 
morning  after  Nathaniel's  visit  Stephen  de  Burg  asserted, 
in  a  manner  not  to  be  trifled  with,  that  he  was  positive  he 
had  smelt  the  odour  of  tobacco  in  the  upper  corridor  on 
the  previous  night.  Anastasia  concluded  instantly  that  it 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  63 

was  best  to  resent  this  speech  as  an  innuendo  against  her 
honour,  and  this  she  did  with  so  much  anger  and  such  pas 
sionate  and  scornful  asseverations  of  her  innocence  that 
for  a  time  De  Burg  was  led  to  doubt  his  discernment  and 
the  evidence  of  his  senses. 

But  Anastasia  knew  that  this  was  but  a  temporary  satis 
faction,  and  as  soon  as  possible  she  went  to  her  brother. 
He  was  in  a  worse  temper  than  his  father,  and  for  the 
first  time  she  saw  in  his  face  the  evidence  of  all  the  sin 
and  cruelty  of  which  he  had  been  accused. 

"  It  is  well  you  have  come,  Asia,"  he  grumbled ;  "  I 
am  at  the  end  of  my  patience.  I  have  been  twenty  times 
on  the  point  of  setting  fire  to  the  old  pile.  Taking  us  all 
together  we  should  make  a  nice  burnt-offering  to  the 
Devil." 

She  turned  on  him  almost  savagely.  "  The  old  pile  can 
shelter  you  no  longer,  John.  You  must  go,  and  at 
once." 

"Where?" 

"  To  Sandys." 

"To  the  Quaker's?" 

"  This  Quaker  is  a  fool,  John ;  and  I  'It  swear  you  are 
ten  times  a  fool  if  you  work  him  not  to  your  purpose." 

Then  she  stooped  toward  him  and  said  in  a  low  voice, 
"If  you  could  '  thee  and  thou '  I  should  say  go  as  a  per 
secuted  Quaker,  and  Friend  Roger  would  hide  thee  and 
Friend  Olivia  would  amuse  thee,  and  thy  consolations 
would  be  many ;  but  you  are  altogether  too  daring  and 
wicked,  John,  for  such  a  merry  disguise.  You  must  wear 
your  own  cavalier  dress,  and  throw  yourself  upon  the 
mercy  of  the  man.  I  hear  he  hath  a  great  heart." 

"  If  but  one  of  his  servants  knew  my  face,  it  would  be 
the  rope  or  the  deep  sea." 

"  His  servants  are  such  as  came  from  London  with  him. 


64  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

And  you  are  in  so  dangerous  a  taking  that  you  must  be 
another  and  a  better  man  than  yourself." 

"  Why  risk  so  much  ?  In  a  few  days  my  ship  will  be 
off—" 

"  In  a  few  hours  it  may  be  too  late  for  you  ever  to 
reach  your  ship.  You  anger  me  beyond  all  patience.  I 
have  told  you  how  full  of  suspicion  the  house  is.  One  of 
us  must  break  the  wonder  soon.  I  have  brought  you  a 
cloak  left  by  Captain  Bellingham  at  his  last  visit.  Here 
also  is  a  rapier  of  my  father's  and  the  last  goldpieces  I 
have.  Be  warned  and  go  at  once." 

"  To  Sandys  ?  But  how  ?  And  fit  me  with  a  name, 
since  I  may  not  use  my  own." 

"  I  have  considered  all.  The  late  lord  took  with  him 
to  the  field  a  poor  cousin  called  Harald  Sandys,  —  a 
man  from  the  south,  — and  't  was  said  that  he  also  died 
at  Marston.  Marry  !  that  is  a  lie  for  you  to  contradict. 
You  are  Harald  Sandys  ;  and  the  name  is  the  more  fit 
ting  that  I  hear  this  Quaker  finds  a  great  content  in 
honouring  the  dead  family.  So  onward  to  Sandys,  for 
I  assure  you  this  matter  calls  for  dispatch." 

"  'T  is  some  distance,  and  I  am  but  a  poor  walker,  if 
it  be  not  on  the  deck  of  my  own  ship." 

"  I  have  been  riding,  and  I  left  my  mare  tied  under 
the  great  sycamore.  Take  her.  At  Sandys  park  gates 
you  can  turn  her  loose ;  she  will  make  shift  to  find  her 
way  home  again.1' 

"But  listen,  Asia  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  She  stood  with  her  right  hand  raised  in  the 
attitude  of  one  listening  intently.  Her  face  blanched  ; 
she  whispered  in  an  agony  of  terror,  "That  is  my 
father's  step  !  Fly,  fly  !  Down  the  great  stairway  !  I 
will  keep  him  in  speech  till  you  are  away." 

"John  was  quite  cool  and  collected.     The  cloak,  the 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  6$ 

rapier,  the  gold,  he  forgot  none  of  them,  and  just  as 
Stephen  de  Burg  sharply  tried  the  handle  of  his  daugh 
ter's  door,  John  de  Burg  stepped  noiselessly  through  the 
corridor  and  down  the  stairway.  There  were  two  ser 
vants  in  the  distance,  but  they  were  deceived  by  Captain 
Bellingham's  cloak,  and  they  took  no  notice  of  his  egress. 
He  had  mounted  the  waiting  horse  and  was  flying 
through  the  park  while  as  yet  Anastasia  answered  her 
father's  demands  through  the  bolted  door  of  her  room. 

"  By  God  and  the  Devil,  Mistress  !  I  will  know  who 
is  within  your  room.  Draw  the  bolt,  and  let  me  enter." 

"  Not  on  such  demand.     It  stands  not  with  my  honour." 

In  like  parleying,  every  moment  growing  more  pas 
sionate  and  offensive,  Anastasia  delayed  her  father's  in 
tention  for  a  short  space.  But  when  she  found  that  he 
would  call  help  and  force  an  entrance,  she  flung  wide  the 
door  with  words  of  indignation  and  scornful  reproach. 

He  had  his  riding-whip  in  his  hand,  and  he  let  it  fall 
with  pitiless  weight  upon  her  shoulders.  It  was  a  com 
mon  discipline  for  the  high-tempered  dames  of  those 
days,  and  Anastasia  took  half  a  dozen  strokes  without  any 
apparent  sense  of  wrong  or  insult.  Suddenly,  however, 
she  turned,  and  with  a  swift  and  unexpected  movement 
snatched  the  whip  from  his  hand  and  flung  it  beneath  her 
feet.  Her  face  blazed,  her  eyes  defied  him,  she  extended 
her  arm  and  cried  out  in  a  tone  impossible  to  contradict : 

"  Stand  off,  sir !  That  is  sufficient  for  my  disobe 
dience  !  I  have  committed  no  other  fault." 

"  Show  me  the  company  you  had,  and  I  will  believe 
you.  Here  hath  been  too  much  whispering  about  it. 
If  't  was  not  Captain  Bell  —  " 

"  Captain  Bellingham !  Sir,  I  am  your  child,  and 
faith  !  the  De  Burgs  fall  not  to  petty  vices.  The  Devil 
honours  us  all  with  great  affairs."  She  dropped  him  a 

5 


66  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

mocking  courtesy  with  the  words,  and  moved  him  to 
speechless  anger  by  that  untranslatable  defiance  which 
radiates  from  an  indignant  and  .wrathful  woman. 

He  did  not  answer  her  specially,  but  went  muttering 
about  the  room,  throwing  open  awmries  and  closets, 
and  accompanying  the  act  with  a  storm  of  abusive  and 
suspicious  words.  Then  he  passed  into  the  rooms  be 
yond,  and  Anastasia  opened  the  window,  cast  the  whip 
into  the  garden,  and  then  stood  waiting  for  the  blast  of 
fury  she  knew  would  soon  follow. 

There  had  been  no  time  to  obliterate  in  John's  room 
the  traces  of  its  occupancy.  His  pipe  lay  upon  a  table, 
and  beside  it  there  were  still  the  remains  of  meat  and 
wine.  De  Burg  became  suddenly  silent  when  he  saw 
them,  and  a  feeling  almost  of  satisfaction  blended  with 
his  passion.  He  had  been  right,  then.  His  anger  was 
just,  it  needed  no  longer  to  grope  about  in  a  blind  rage' 
seeking  its  object.  He  called  Anastasia  in  a  vaunting, 
strenuous  voice,  and  she  answered  the  summons  at  once. 

He  pointed  to  the  pipe,  the  food,  and  the  bottle,  and 
she  looked  at  them  with  the  calm  indifference  with 
which  we  regard  familiar  and  expected  objects. 

"  I  swear,  I  swear,  Mistress,  I  will  blush  for  you, 
since  you  blush  not  for  your  own  shame  !  Lord  !  What 
have  you  to  say  now?  " 

"  For  your  sake,  sir,  I  say  nothing  at  present." 

"  I  bless  myself  at  my  patience  !  God  in  heaven  ! 
I  '11  find  a  way  to  make  you  say  something.  Name  the 
villain,  that  I  may  spit  him  on  my  sword  to  the  hilt- 
basket.  Speak  !  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say." 

For  the  moment  he  was  unable  to  answer,  but  he  went 
back  to  Anastasia's  room  and  began  to  search  the  floor 
in  a  furious  hurry.  She  understood  his  motive  and 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  67 

said  calmly,  "  If  you  are  looking  for  your  riding-whip,  it 
is  as  far  beyond  your  reach  as  it  ought  to  be  beyond 
your  desire.  Be  reasonable,  sir ;  then  I  will  give  you 
the  satisfaction  you  cannot  get  from  me  with  any  amount 
of  dog-treatment.  This  also  is  an  affair  for  ourselves ; 
why  breed  a  story  about  it  ?  Do  you  wish  all  the  foot 
men  and  serving-maids  in  the  county  to  gape  over  us?  " 

There  was  something  in  her  manner  which  shocked 
him  into  a  dazed,  reluctant  kind  of  reasonableness.  Her 
face  expressed  anxiety,  but  not  even  the  shadow  of 
shame.  She  stood  a  little  distance  from  him,  silent  and 
hesitating,  for  she  was  trying  to  put  off  her  confession 
in  order  to  gain  every  moment  possible  for  her  flying 
brother.  The  voiceless  tension  was  soon  irritating  to 
De  Burg.  "  This  silence  is  a  mummery,"  he  said. 
"  You  were  ever  too  ready  to  speak.  Whom  have  you 
been  entertaining  so  near  to  your  own  room?  " 

"  One  of  our  own  name." 

She  let  the  words  drop  slowly,  watching  her  father's 
face  as  she  did  so.  It  terrified  her. 

"  You  lie  !  " 

«  No,  sir." 

"Name  him,  if  you  dare." 

"Your  son,  John  de  Burg." 

"  You  lie  tenfold  !     I  have  no  son." 

"  My  brother,  John  de  Burg." 

"  The  curse  of  God  and  man  !  How  dared  you  bring 
him  under  my  roof  ?  "  And  he  threw  her  from  him  with 
a  force  that  would  have  felled  a  frailer  woman.  Anas- 
tasia  reeled,  but  recovered  herself  quickly. 

"  It  is  the  truth.  I  would  have  saved  you  the  truth  if 
you  had  trusted  me.  John,  as  you  well  know,  has  been 
hunted  off  the  sea.  He  came  to  the  home  earth,  and 
for  your  sake  I  hid  him.  '  T  was  a  strange  hazard,  and 


68  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

I  do  not  deserve  to  be  struck  for  carrying  it  out  with  so 
much  bravery.  All  considered,  can  there  be  anything 
more  absurd  than  that  you  should  play  Brutus  in  your 
own  house  ?  Plenty  of  ghosts  wander  about  these  rooms 
at  midnight,  wringing  helpless  hands.  John  in  the  flesh 
is  manageable,  but  I  would  not  have  you  the  one  to  set 
his  soul  free  of  it.  Nor  had  I  a  mind  that  our  affairs 
should  breed  tittle-tattle  among  neighbours;  so  I  lent 
him  my  mare,  and  gone  he  is." 

"Where?" 

"To  sea.  His  ship  was  waiting  off  Barrow  for  him. 
Say  what  you  will,  you  cannot  but  know  that  I  have 
acted  with  a  wisdom  beyond  yourself.  Sir,  go  not  away 
in  such  haste  and  distraction.  'T  is  beyond  your  power 
to  come  up  with  him,  and  why  then  set  the  country 
howling  the  name  of  De  Burg  to  curses?" 

"There  is  no  curse  too  deep  for  him." 

"  Some  also  might  say  that  it  was  a  strange  thing  if 
John  de  Burg  was  so  long  under  your  roof  without  your 
connivance  ;  and  you  are  not  without  enemies  who  would 
make  the  most  of  the  doubt." 

De  Burg  listened  to  her  with  blazing  eyes  and  a  sul 
lenly  thoughtful  face.  There  are  generally  circumstances 
surrounding  every  wrong  which  make  it  difficult  or  im 
prudent  for  the  injured  either  to  avenge  or  to  right  them 
selves.  De  Burg  had  been  brought  to  a  point  which 
permitted  him  to  take  these  into  consideration,  and 
Anastasia  wisely  left  him  to  that  employment.  She  occu 
pied  herself  in  putting  straight  the  contents  of  a  drawer  ; 
and  while  his  mind  was  revolving  words  and  deeds  which 
could  suggest  nothing  but  the  highway  gibbet  or  the 
avenging  knife,  his  eyes  were  curiously  noting  her  long 
white  fingers  as  they  folded  a  pink  ribbon  or  slowly 
crimped  a  bit  of  English  point. 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  69 

At  length  he  saw  her  take  a  lawn  kerchief  and  fold  it 
for  a  covering  for  her  neck.  The  act  reproached  him, 
and  he  furtively  lifted  his  eyes  and  saw  the  marks  of  his 
passion  across  her  white  shoulders.  It  was  not  a  pleas 
ant  sight,  so  he  moved  in  a  slow,  stupid  way  toward  the 
door,  muttering,  "  Where  there  are  women  there  are  all 
kinds  of  mischiefs  ;  "  but  after  having  closed  the  door  he 
re-opened  it  and  bade  her  come  down  quickly  and  play 
a  game  of  draughts  with  him.  He  was  afraid  of  his  own 
thoughts,  and  the  large,  empty  rooms,  turning  shabby  in 
the  years  of  trouble  in  which  nothing  had  been  renewed, 
were  indeed  haunted  even  in  the  sunny  midday  with 
ghostly  memories  he  could  not  endure  to  entertain. 

It  was  at  this  same  hour  that  Nathaniel  was  leaving 
Sandys  as  the  protector  of  John  Whitehead.  Half  way 
to  Kendal  the  party  saw  John  de  Burg,  a  little  off  the 
main  road,  riding  like  a  man  who  rides  to  outrun  dis 
aster.  The  constables  both  turned  to  watch  him ;  and 
Nathaniel  also  observed  the  mad  hurry  of  the  rider,  the 
head  bent  to  the  neck  of  the  animal,  the  cloak  streaming 
out  behind.  The  sight,  after  all,  was  only  a  natural  one ; 
but  nothing  in  life  deserves  more  attention  than  the 
things  we  call  natural,  since  it  is  by  the  most  natural 
doors  that  trouble  enters. 

As  for  John  de  Burg,  he  paid  no  attention  to  the 
party.  It  was  not  pursuing  him,  and  his  mind  was 
wholly  set  upon  reaching  Sandys  before  his  father  could 
take  any  determined  steps  against  him.  At  the  park 
gates  he  dismissed  the  mare  and  made  at  once  for  the 
coverts  of  undergrowth,  and  thus  he  gradually  advanced 
to  the  house.  In  the  interval  he  recovered  his  usual 
cool  assurance ;  and  when  the  park  became  a  garden,  he 
was  prepared  to  meet  any  one  wandering  in  its  shade. 

The  sight  of  a  white  hood  gave  him  pleasure.     He 


7O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

rightly  divined  that  the  wearer  was  Olivia  Prideaux,  and 
he  contrived  to  meet  her  in  a  narrow  walk  bordered  by 
hedges  of  privet.  There  he  threw  himself  at  her  feet 
with  an  impetuous  fear  and  a  pretence  of  exhaustion 
which  startled  and  alarmed  the  girl. 

"  Mistress  Prideaux,  have  pity  on  me ! "  he  cried. 
"  My  life  is  in  your  hands.  Be  so  merciful  as  to  care 
for  it  a  little." 

"I  know  thee  not;   but  if  thee  is  in  trouble  — " 

"  I  am  Harald  Sandys.  I  have  been  to  Penrith  on 
the  king's  business,  and  am  like  to  be  run  down  by  the 
king's  enemies.  I  have  come  to  the  old  home  for 
shelter.  I  know  not  where  else  to  go." 

She  looked  with  pity  on  the  kneeling  man,  and  touch 
ing  his  hand  said,  "  Rise  !  Thou  must  not  kneel  to  any 
mortal,  and  I  think  thou  hast  a  right  to  shelter  here. 
My  father  is  at  Ulverstone ;  but  until  he  returns  I  will 
do  his  duty  for  him.  Walk  by  my  side.  I  am  glad 
thou  art  yet  alive.  It  was  said,  and  fully  believed,  that 
no  Sandys  escaped  the  sword." 

"  Indeed,  Mistress,  I  was  sorely  wounded  at  Marston, 
where  my  noble  cousin  fell ;  but  I  was  nursed  and  shel 
tered,  and  so  I  escaped  to  the  king,  in  whose  service 
I  spend  my  poor  life." 

There  was  no  further  conversation.  She  walked  di 
rectly  to  the  house,  and  John  de  Burg  walked  at  her 
side.  He  felt  that  he  had  said  sufficient,  and  that  he 
could  be  silent  and  know  that  silence  would  be  to  his 
advantage ;  but  he  watched  with  a  furtive  delight  the 
beautiful  face  at  his  side.  Wicked  as  he  was,  he  felt 
the  purity  of  his  companion,  and  he  looked  at  the  inno 
cent  girl  with  something  of  the  same  pleasure  which  a 
botanist  feels  when  he  suddenly  discovers  a  wondrous 
flower  unknown  to  him  before. 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  71 

Asa  Bevin  met  them  in  the  front  hall,  and  looked  with 
little  favour  on  the  dusty,  disordered  cavalier.  Perhaps 
Olivia  noticed  the  man's  expression,  for  she  said  with  a 
decided  purpose  and  authority :  "  A  neighbour  in  trou 
ble,  Asa.  Thou  wilt  see  that  he  has  all  things  necessary 
for  his  comfort.  Until  my  father  comes  home  he  is  in  thy 
care,  and  there  is  no  other  to  know  of  his  presence  here." 

Then  she  removed  her  hood,  and  sat  down  to  con 
sider  what  she  had  done ;  but  it  was  difficult  even  for 
her  well-trained  mind  to  follow  out  one  train  of  thought. 
Nathaniel's  looks  and  words,  and  his  espousal  of  John 
Whitehead's  case,  would  blend  with  the  circumstances 
of  this  last  most  unlooked-for  visitor.  Asa's  evident  dis 
approval  of  him  also  annoyed  her. 

"Thou  must  judge  with  a  fair  mind,  Asa,"  she  said 
in  reply  to  a  very  doubtful  speech ;  "  and  thou  must  not 
let  thy  prejudices  hinder  thy  kindness.  I  trust  that 
Charles  Stuart  hath  some  good  men  in  his  service." 

"  Olivia,  we  have  neither  this  nor  that  to  do  with 
Charles  Stuart.  Thou  shouldst  have  waited  for  counsel 
and  clearness  in  such  a  weighty  matter." 

"The  man  had  his  life  in  his  hand.  If  our  enemy 
hunger,  we  are  told  to  feed  him." 

"  If  friend  or  enemy  hath  a  crime  against  him,  we  are 
not  told  to  prevent  justice.  And  Friends  are  concerned 
to  testify  against  mixing  up  with  the  world's  people. 
This  man  hath  their  likeness  and  likelihood.  I  have 
not  felt  drawn  toward  him." 

"To-morrow  morning  my  father  will  be  home.  He 
will  doubtless  be  given  to  see  his  duty.  Until  then  let 
the  stranger  be  in  thy  charge." 

"  Truly  I  will.  I  think  not  of  trusting  him ;  for  I  have 
been  counselled  by  that  which  never  failed  me." 

"  Be  not  over-suspicious,  Asa.  The  shadow  of  divine 
mercy  is  exceeding  broad." 


72  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

She  sat  down  in  it,  and  lost  herself  in  the  sweetness 
and  peace  of  its  consolation.  Was  it  not  sufficient  for  all 
the  sure  anxieties  of  the  present,  and  also  for  those  which 
lurked  in  the  obscurity  of  the  future?  A  great  calm 
fell  upon  her  soul.  She  was  at  rest  in  the  Lord,  and 
they  who  ascend  that  height  have  all  things  under  their 
feet. 

It  was  near  noon  on  the  following  day  when  Roger 
returned  from  Ulverstone.  There  had  been  a  memo 
rable  meeting  there.  The  very  room  had  been  shaken 
by  the  power  of  God,  and  from  the  awful  glory  of  that 
experience  many  had  risen  to  give  themselves  and  all 
they  had  to  the  preaching  of  the  indwelling  Christ.  The 
light  and  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost  was  with  Roger, 
its  reflection  on  his  face,  and  his  favourite  hymn  singing 
through  his  heart :  — 

"  Oh,  be  glad,  thou  Zion's  daughter, 

Joyous  news  to  thee  are  sent ; 
Thou  shalt  sing  a  strain  cf  sweetness, 

Sing  it  to  thy  heart's  content. 
Now  the  friend  of  God  thou  art, 
Therefore  shalt  thou  joy  at  heart, 
Therefore  know  no  sorrow  smart."  1 

At  that  hour  the  gift  of  life,  with  God  and  eternity  to 
bless  and  crown  it,  seemed  a  very  precious  gift  to  him. 

The  news  of  John  Whitehead's  arrest  and  of  Na 
thaniel's  sympathy  did  not  darken  his  happy  mood. 
He  almost  envied  the  youths  their  opportunity  for  "  tes 
tifying."  But  when  Olivia  spoke  of  the  hidden  guest 
waiting  to  see  him,  Roger  was  troubled.  For  men  with 
God  to  strengthen  them  may  face  martyrdom  smiling, 
and  the  same  men  shrink  and  tremble  before  a  financial 
crisis  which  is  to  be  a  question  for  quibbling  lawyers 
and  prejudiced  judges. 

1  Old  German  mystical  hymn. 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  73 

The  first  mention  of  Harald  Sandys  raised  in  Roger's 
mind  a  grave  and  troublous  question.  Would  this 
Harald  be  heir-at-law?  Would  his  own  purchase  of 
Sandys  be  void?  Would  his  tenure  of  the  house  be 
in  the  discretion  of  this  young  man?  He  asked  many 
particulars  of  Olivia  and  of  Asa,  and  was  not  comforted 
by  any  report  received. 

It  was  just  at  this  hour  that  Nathaniel  called  with  his 
account  of  the  proceedings  in  John  Whitehead's  case. 
He  saw  plainly  that  Roger  was  not  himself;  and  as  he 
could  not  imagine  the  true  reason  of  his  mental  dis 
turbance,  he  followed  the  usual  course  of  men  and 
women,  and  began  to  consider  what  he  had  said  or  done 
to  induce  the  constrained  courtesy,  and  to  make  himself 
unhappy  over  it. 

He  arrived  at  Kelderby  in  that  mood  which  above  all 
things  asks  for  sympathy.  And  it  so  happened  that  he 
had  just  overstayed  the  moment  in  which  sympathy  still 
waited  for  him.  Lady  Kelder  had  been  impatiently 
expecting  her  son  for  thirty  hours.  During  at  least 
twenty-nine  of  them  she  had  waited  for  him  with  that 
alternating  pleasure  and  wonder  which  is  ready  to  accord 
with  whatever  mood  asks  fellow-feeling.  But  the  strain 
had  been  a  little  too  long;  she  had  begun  to  feel  in 
jured,  neglected,  and  of  small  account.  As  she  drove 
her  wheel  round  she  told  herself,  and  sometimes  told 
the  baron,  who  sat  reading  opposite  her,  that  she  was 
very  silly  to  expect  consideration  when  Anastasia  was 
her  rival.  And  the  baron,  hearing  her  voice  only  as 
discords  through  the  measures  of — 

"  Sydnsian  showers 
Of  sweet  discourse," 

answered  vaguely  what  he  thought  likewise ;  and  so 
mended  nothing  wrong,  but  rather  made  sense  of  neglect 
worse. 


74  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

It  was  raining  heavily  yet,  and  the  black,  drizzling 
crags,  the  tilled  fields  swept  by  the  wet  wind,  the  grass 
black  with  shadows,  the  heights  coifed  with  gray, 
ghostly  vapours,  —  everything  around  insensibly  sub 
dued  the  mind  to  a  settled  melancholy  quiet.  It  was 
such  a  day  as  breeds  worries,  even  if  they  do  not  exist ; 
and  Lady  Kelder,  having  waited  with  unused  sympathy 
all  the  morning,  felt  now  as  if  nothing  could  induce  her 
to  give  what  had  been  so  long  neglected.  Her  hour  for 
waiting  to  be  gracious  was  past,  and  she  looked  up  at 
Nathaniel  when  he  entered  with  an  indifference  which  he 
felt  it  difficult  to  contend  with. 

The  baron  put  down  his  book  and  said,  with  some 
effort  of  enthusiasm,  "  Glad  to  see  you,  Nathaniel !  Let 
me  tell  you  your  mother  and  I  have  taken  your  delay 
very  ill,  and  with  rather  small  patience." 

"  'T  was  against  my  will,  sir." 

"  Fie,  Nathaniel !  When  a  man  is  so  passionately 
taken  with  a  gentlewoman  as  you  are  with  Anastasia 
de  Burg,  his  will  is  a  very  spider-web  for  her  to  break." 

"  My  dear  mother,  I  left  Anastasia  within  three  hours 
after  our  meeting.  This,  on  my  conscience  !  " 

"Nathaniel,  what  said  my  Cousin  Stephen  to  your 
news?" 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  think  he  took  it  with  light  gratitude. 
He  was  for  the  hills,  and  did  not  wait  to  speak  his 
mind ;  nor  did  I  wait  to  hear  it  at  his  convenience." 

"  I  lost  my  hopes  of  any  good  out  of  Stephen  de 
Burg  long  ago,"  said  Lady  Kelder.  "Where  there  is 
no  grace,  how  can  there  be  gratitude  ?  Pray,  how  does 
Mistress  de  Burg  endure  what  she  mockingly  calls  '  the 
reign  of  the  saints  '  ?  " 

"  She  was  not  in  a  complaining  humour.  I  found  her 
engaged  in  a  game  of  battledore  with  Captain  Belling- 
ham  and  Squire  Chenage." 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  75 

"  And  dressed  like  a  May  queen,  or  a  picture  of  Mr. 
Lely's,  without  doubt." 

"  Indeed,  Mother,  I  remember  not  in  particulars. 
She  was  in  a  glow  of  pink  ribbons,  and  extremely 
handsome." 

"And  mincing  and  stepping  with  a  delicate  grace 
like  King  Agag,  I  '11  warrant  her.  And  giving  you 
such  refuse  of  her  smiles  as  Squire  Chenage  and  Captain 
Bellingham  could  not  miss.  She  had  ever  that  kind 
of  trick  with  you." 

"  Mother,  you  wrong  me  as  much  as  you  wrong  the 
lady.  And  you  are  enough  in  my  heart  to  know  that  I 
would  humour  no  such  beggarly  grace." 

"  Come,  Nathaniel,  here  is  food ;  and  I  make  no 
doubt  you  need  it.  While  you  eat  you  shall  give  us  the 
rest  of  your  adventures.  Good  meat  and  drink  never 
yet  spoiled  a  tale.  If  you  left  De  Burg  ere  sunset, 
where  spent  you  the  night?" 

"  Baron,  what  need  to  ask  ?  He  spent  it  at  Sandys, 
of  course.  Little  wit  is  needed  for  that  riddle." 

"  Indeed,  Mother,  you  have  guessed  to  a  miracle.  I 
was  at  Sandys.  There  I  found  also  many  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  good  degree  ;  also  your  favoured  minister, 
John  Duttred." 

"  John  Duttred  !  If  what  you  say,  Nathaniel,  be  of 
your  own  knowledge,  I  will  believe  it ;  if  you  saw  him 
not,  I  scarce  know  how  to  do  so." 

"  What  could  take  the  minister  to  the  Quakers'  ? " 
asked  the  baron,  curiously. 

"  To  talk  with  one  of  whom  all  men  may  learn  some 
what.  George  Fox  was  there,  and  Duttred  had  some 
disputing  with  him." 

"  A  waste  of  time  and  testimony,"  said  Lady  Kelder. 
"  George  Fox  listens  only  to  himself." 


76  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  What  thought  you  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  think,  Father,  that  he  is  such  an  one  as  God  uses 
to  shake  the  souls  of  men.  I  can  but  wonder  that  he 
sent  at  one  time  Fox  and  Cromwell.  Surely  England 
has  been  exalted  to  the  skies  by  such  favour." 

"  I  am  amazed  at  you,  Nathaniel.  'T  is  nothing  but  an 
insult  to  the  Protector  to  set  him  in  the  same  sentence 
with  a  Quaker.  And  he  would  not  forgive  you  very 
quickly  for  it." 

"  Mother,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  repeat  to  you  what 
George  Fox  said,  you  must  needs  see  how  much  of  preju 
dice  there  is  in  your  misliking." 

"  I  thank  God  I  have  no  itching  ear  for  strange  doc 
trine  ;  '  plain  blasphemy  '  Master  Duttred  calls  Quakerism. 
And  if  you  will  talk  of  it,  't  will  be  in  my  absence.  I  have 
no  senses  for  such  people,  —  no  eyes  to  see  them,  no  ears 
to  hear  them,  no  tongue  to  talk  of  them  ;  no,  truly,  though 
it  were  of  that  pattern  of  all  virtues,  Mistress  Olivia 
Prideaux  !  " 

With  the  words  she  rose  up  in  a  passion  from  her  wheel, 
and  said  many  things  too  positive  to  be  reasonable.  For 
the  finest  ladies,  then  as  now,  caught  the  spirit  of  their 
age,  and  Lady  Kelder  thought  she  did  well  to  stand  by 
the  faith  in  which  she  had  trusted  from  her  childhood ; 
and  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  being  in  a  fit  of  bad  tem 
per,  she  was  not  sorry  to  find  a  point  of  conscience  to 
excuse  it. 

"  You,  Nathaniel  Kelder !  "  she  cried  passionately. 
"  You  !  you,  who  are  of  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  !  You 
speaking  for  the  Quakers  is  a  thing  not  to  be  endured  ! 
Were  your  fore-elders,  who  died  in  the  fires  of  Smithfield 
and  perished  in  the  cells  of  Newgate  for  their  testimony 
to  God's  truth,  under  a  delusion?  Was  my  father,  hunted 
to  death  on  these  hills  for  Non-conformity,  deceived  by 


JOHN  DE  BURG.  77 

his  own  imaginations  ?  No,  sir  !  And  if  they  were  in  the 
right,  then  these  Quakers  are  scandalously  and  abomina 
bly  and  blasphemously  in  the  wrong.  And  as  for  the 
Protector,  I  blame  him  every  hour  and  every  minute  for 
suffering  them  in  the  land  at  all." 

She  delivered  this  opinion  with  all  the  vehemence  of  a 
soul-conviction,  and  as  neither  her  husband  nor  her  son 
felt  disposed  to  continue  a  defence  not  as  yet  definite 
in  their  own  minds,  Lady  Kelder  left  the  room  with 
the  private  assurance  that  her  words  had  touched  the 
deepest  feelings  of  both  men,  and  had  been  felt  to  be 
unanswerable. 

Then  there  was  a  few  minutes  of  that  uncomfortable  si 
lence  of  indecision  which  relieves  itself  either  by  motion 
or  by  gloomy  intentness.  Nathaniel  walked  about  the 
room,  the  baron  sat  gazing  into  the  leaping  flames  on  the 
hearth  ;  Jael  came  in  and  removed  the  dishes,  and  put  by 
her  lady's  wheel,  and  pottered  about  the  fire  and  the  fur 
niture  until  the  very  air  of  the  room  was  irritable,  but 
when  left  alone  father  and  son  were  both  ready  to  talk. 

Naturally  the  De  Burgs  opened  the  conversation,  and  it 
turned  at  once  to  John  de  Burg  and  the  proposal  which 
had  been  made  by  Anastasia.  "  I  acted,  sir,  without  your 
advice,  and  I  may  have  been  in  too  great  a  passion  of 
honour  and  honesty.  John  was  born  wicked.  It  seemeth 
to  me  that  he  hath  inherited  all  the  sinful  tendencies  of 
all  the  De  Burgs  before  him.  Perchance  this  ought  to 
have  been  considered." 

"  I  observe  not  in  Scripture  any  special  tolerance  for 
such  men,  neither  in  nature  do  we  make  excuses  for  in 
herited  evil  tendencies.  The  dog  too  brutal  for  control 
is  mercilessly  slain.  We  put  our  foot  upon  the  head  of 
the  adder.  In  foreign  countries  the  tiger  and  the  great 
serpent  are  not  forgiven  the  consequences  of  their  devilish 


78  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

desires  because  they  are  natural  to  them.  And  John  de 
Burg  was  born  under  the  chime  of  church  bells,  with  the 
words  of  prophets  and  apostles  in  his  ears ;  he  knew  the 
Name  which  would  compel  the  seven  devils  within  him  to 
tremble  and  fly,  and  he  never  spoke  it.  This  is  most 
sure,  or  he  had  cleansed  his  soul  with  the  good  handsel 
of  that  name.  You  spoke  well  for  me.  My  roof  shall 
not  shelter  nor  my  bread  feed  him." 

"  If,  indeed,  he  was  truly  sorry  ?  " 

"  He  would  deliver  himself  to  justice  and  pay  the  pen 
alty  of  his  crimes.  His  father,  though  a  thorough  malig 
nant,  hath  so  much  of  virtue  and  honour  as  to  abhor  the 
son  who  has  linked  his  name  with  deeds  conceived  in 
devilish  cruelty  and  wrought  out  with  the  cunning  and 
treachery  of  a  wild  beast." 

Now  often  when  the  heart  is  full  of  turmoil,  restlessness, 
and  anger,  conversation  about  a  wicked  person  acts  as  a 
salutary  medicine.  As  the  two  men  spoke  of  John  de 
Burg  it  was  as  if  the  evil  name  drew  to  itself  all  that  was 
evil  or  irritable  in  them.  Gradually  they  spoke  with  less 
fret,  until  the  mention  of  Roger  Prideaux  opened  a  holy 
and  wonderful  subject.  In  it  they  became  more  and 
more  interested  and  in  earnest ;  and  anon  the  co'nversa- 
tion  was  full  of  eloquent  pauses  and  ellipses.  Their 
voices  grew  low  and  solemn.  In  each  other's  eyes  they 
caught  meanings  beyond  words.  The  fire  burned  down 
to  red  ash,  and  they  heeded  it  not ;  the  evening  shadows 
grew  long  and  dim ;  they  sat  stiller  and  stiller  in  them, 
for  the  warmth  of  the  hidden  fire  was  in  their  hearts,  and 
the  glow  of  the  inward  light  around  them. 


V. 

ANASTASIA  AND   OLIVIA. 

"With  how  secure  a  brow  and  specious  form 
He  gilds  the  secret  villain  I 

sets  his  countenance  for  deceit, 

And  promises  a  lie  before  he  speaks." 

"  Heaven  has  no  rage  like  love  to  hatred  turned, 
Nor  hell  a  fury  like  a  woman  scorned." 

"  My  heavy  heart,  the  prophetess  of  woe, 
Forebodes  some  ill  at  hand." 

T  T  is  not  necessary  that  we  run  glittering  like  a  brook 
•*-  in  the  open  sunshine  in  order  to  be  happy,  yet  every 
heart  seeks  some  flower  of  pleasure  with  which  to  adorn 
its  daily  duty ;  even  as  the  wealthy  wheatfield  wears  with 
the  bending  corn  the  useless,  splendid  poppy.  Nathaniel 
had  many  important  things  to  attend  to  during  the  week 
ensuing  his  visit  to  Kendal,  for  the  oversight  of  the  estate 
was  on  him,  —  and  there  was  wood-cutting  in  the  forest, 
and  there  were  folds  upon  the  hills,  and  the  farm  servants 
and  the  fishers  and  the  shrimp-gatherers  all  waited  for  his 
orders.  But  though  these  duties  brought  him  a  sure  sat 
isfaction,  he  thought  very  often  of  Olivia,  and  the  memory 
of  her  voice  was  like  some  one  calling  him  wherever  he 
went ;  and  he  longed,  even  in  his  busiest  hours,  for  the 
sight  of  her  face,  and  for  that  nearness  of  her  presence 
which  was  in  itself  a  simple  delight. 

Sometimes  the  baron  rode  or  walked  with  him;  and 
the  two  men  meeting  a  solitary  shepherd  on  the  hills,  or 


8O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

a  fisher  tugging  his  boat  on  to  the  shingle,  or  a  silent  man 
driving  the  plough  before  him,  they  would  stop  and  talk 
awhile  :  first  of  the  work  going  on,  but  sure  finally  to 
drift  to  the  subjects  uppermost  in  every  heart,  —  life  and 
death  and  the  conditions  pertaining  to  them  ;  how  "  man 
that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  of  few  days,  and  full  of  trouble," 
and  how  he  can  be  justified  with  God. 

These  thoughts,  which  the  ancient  Chaldean  pondered 
under  the  stars  of  the  desert,  and  which  survive  all  changes 
of  race,  manners,  and  dynasty,  had  at  that  day  in  England 
a  tremendous  vitality.  The  Bible  in  the  vulgar  tongue 
was  as  yet  a  new  book.  Men  and  women  loved  it  and 
trusted  in  it  with  a  passionate  sincerity  which  it  is  hard 
for  us  to  understand,  who  use  it  as  a  schoolbook,  and 
make  anagrams  and  puzzles  out  of  it  for  the  amusement 
column  of  the  weekly  newspaper.  Every  word  between 
its  covers  was  the  word  of  God.  No  one  doubted  a  tittle 
of  it.  It  was  read  upon  the  knees.  It  was  never  touched 
but  with  clean  hands.  Upon  its  stand  or  table  no  other 
thing  was  permitted  a  place.  In  the  household  and  the 
church  it  was  the  holy  of  holies.  Men  then  really  did 
sell  a  field  and  buy  this  pearl  of  price.  And  they  were 
not  content  to  read ;  they  searched  the  Scriptures  for 
hid  treasure,  and  they  found  it. 

And  as  God  is  his  own  interpreter  to  every  man,  and  to 
no  two  men  alike,  no  wonder  that  it  was  an  age  of  spirit 
ual  conversation  and  discussion.  Even  on  Kelder's  es 
tate  he  found  the  great  truths,  which  all  acknowledged, 
tinged  by  a  variety  of  individualities.  The  shepherds  had 
aerial  visions,  the  husbandmen  strong  and  stern  convic 
tions,  the  dwellers  by  the  sea  believed  in  supernatural 
forms  of  sight  and  hearing ;  but  with  all  of  them  Na 
thaniel  had  strong  sympathies.  The  Bethlehem  shep 
herds,  watching  their  flocks  by  night,  had  seen  a  vision 


ANASTASIA   AND  OLIVIA.  8 1 

of  angels ;  he  knew  no  reason  why  Westmoreland  shep 
herds  should  not  be  equally  blessed.  He  could  under 
stand  how  these  grave  men,  even  when  fighting  the  battles 
of  the  Lord,  had  pined  for  the  upper  pastures  with  their 
long  twilights,  and  their  wide  view  and  their  free  life. 

Several  of  the  farmers  had  been  soldiers  in  Cromwell's 
army,  and  to  obey  God's  will  and  do  duty  to  its  last  par 
ticle  was  their  ideal  of  righteousness ;  special  tokens  of 
love,  particular  help  or  visitations,  they  looked  not  for. 
The  "well  done"  of  the  Master  at  the  close  of  their 
labour  was  sufficient.  In  such  strong  self-abnegation 
Nathaniel  grew  in  spiritual  stature  ;  and  there  were  times 
when  even  the  melancholy  mysteries  of  the  coastmen 
fitted  into  his  mood.  He  could  feel  with  them  the  har 
binger  of  death  going  overhead,  and  see  and  hear  in  their 
dubious,  dreamlike  intimations  as  men  do  and  see  and 
hear  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships  and  see  God's 
wonders  in  the  great  deep. 

One  morning,  more  than  a  week  after  this  eventful 
journey,  Nathaniel  was  sitting  with  the  baron  upon  a 
large  bowlder  overlooking  a  great  extent  of  country. 
Suddenly  he  had  an  impression  that  he  ought  to  go  to 
Sandys.  The  desire  to  do  so  had  been  with  him  all  the 
week ;  but  he  had  felt  hurt  at  Roger's  constrained  man 
ner,  and  an  honest  haughtiness  of  self-esteem,  not  to  be 
blamed,  had  hitherto  prevented  him  from  humouring  his 
inclinations. 

"  Father,"  he  said,  "  I  feel  that  I  must  go  to  Sandys. 
It  appears  to  me  that  I  have  no  time  for  delay." 

"Consider  whether  the  feeling  be  of  desire  or  of 
duty." 

"There  are  commands  which  I  have  no  right  to 
consider.  This  is  one  of  them." 

He  rose  as  he  said  the  words  and  began  to  unfasten 
6 


82  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

his  horse  and  arrange  the  bridle.  The  baron  rose  with 
him.  The  calm  induced  by  their  previous  conversation 
was  all  gone  ;  he  looked  anxious,  and  in  a  wistful,  warning 
voice  said,  "  Before  you  mount  look  to  the  girth." 

The  words  had  a  much  deeper  intent,  and  Nathaniel 
caught  it  and  nodded  a  grave  assurance  in  reply.  Then 
he  rode  away  with  the  hurry  of  a  man  who  is  sent  as  a 
swift  messenger,  and  the  baron  led  his  own  horse  down 
the  green,  slippery  sheep-path;  and  somehow,  for  the 
dim  turmoil  of  his  uncertain  feelings,  he  could  find  no 
ejaculation  but  one,  "  Oh,  the  changing  years  !  Oh,  the 
changing  years!"  And  though  to  others  the  words  would 
have  been  unintelligible,  to  Odinel  Kelder  they  were  the 
sum  of  a  life  full  of  vivid  emotions  and  stirring  deeds. 

Nathaniel  reached  Sandys  in  the  afternoon.  He  had 
been  detained  a  little  by  a  tide-swollen  stream,  and 
had  lost  some  of  that  enthusiasm  of  conviction  which 
had  hurried  him  at  his  first  setting  out.  Roger  Prideaux 
was  not  at  home ;  he  had  gone  to  neighbour  Gill's,  Asa 
said,  but  might  be  back  at  any  hour.  Now,  Nathaniel 
was  a  great  favourite  with  Asa,  and  he  had  the  utmost  re 
liance  upon  his  heart  and  judgment.  He  knew,  quite  as 
well  as  if  Nathaniel  had  told  him  so,  that  the  young  man 
loved  Olivia;  and  he  favoured  the  idea  of  such  a  mar 
riage.  For  he  thought  Olivia  too  self-reliant  and  too 
authoritative  for  her  sex,  and  expected  her  to  find  in 
Nathaniel's  strong  character  and  will  a  force  sufficient 
to  make  her  obedient  to  him.  Indeed,  the  only  point  in 
which  Asa  considered  Quakerism  vulnerable  to  mortal 
criticism  was  its  acknowledgment  of  the  spiritual  equality 
of  men  and  women.  Asa  was  willing  that  God  should 
speak  to  women,  but  he  was  not  willing  that  women 
should  be  in  any  respect  God's  messengers  to  his 
own  sex. 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  83 

He  had  been  much  struck  with  Nathaniels  determina 
tion  and  authority  in  the  case  of  John  Whitehead.  He 
felt  sure  that  he  was  exactly  suited  to  keep  Olivia  in  that 
gentle  but  positive  subjection  which  he  thought  was  not 
only  the  natural  but  the  wisest  state  for  women.  So, 
though  he  had  been  told  by  Roger  to  admit  no  one 
into  the  house  during  his  absence,  he  made  bold  to  read 
the  order  in  the  light  of  his  own  judgment,  and  to  give 
Nathaniel  the  opportunity  for  a  little  private  conversation 
with  Olivia. 

"  Friend  Roger  is  gone  to  neighbour  Gill's,  but  thou 
canst  talk  with  Olivia ;  and  if  thou  hast  anything  to  say, 
say  it  quickly.  I  am  thy  friend  in  this  matter,  for  I  have 
turned  the  fleece  on  both  sides.  Now,  therefore,  if  thy 
mind  is  made  up,  seasonably  insist  upon  it." 

Nathaniel  did  not  receive  this  advice  as  kindly  as  its 
interest  warranted.  Olivia  was  so  set  apart  in  his  own 
mind  that  he  could  not  endure  that  others  should  specu 
late  about  her  affairs  or  her  future,  especially  where  that 
future  touched  a  subject  so  personal  as  his  love  for  her. 
He  answered  Asa's  advice  by  asking  precisely  the  same 
question  he  would  have  asked  had  the  advice  not  been 
given  :  "  Is  Mistress  Prideaux  within  the  house?  "  Asa 
was  "  led  to  think  so ;  "  but  about  women  and  their  ways 
he  never  ventured  on  any  statement  more  positive. 

Nathaniel  went  at  once  to  the  dining-room.  He 
opened  the  door  with  the  quick,  decided  movement 
natural  to  all  his  actions.  Olivia  sat  in  a  chair  by  the 
window.  John  de  Burg  sat  near  her.  He  had  a  book 
in  his  hand  and  was  reading  aloud.  In  a  moment  the 
scene  changed.  Olivia  came  a  step  forward  to  meet 
him,  and  John  de  Burg  rose  and  laid  the  volume  upon 
Olivia's  work-table.  Her  face  was  suffused  with  blushes, 
her  manner  confiding  and  yet  deprecatory. 


84  FRIEND   OLI-VIA, 

"  Nathaniel,  thou  art  welcome.  This  is  Harald  Sandys, 
the  cousin  of  thy  friend  who  died  at  Marston  Moor.  He 
was  mercifully  spared,  and,  being  in  danger,  has  been 
led  to  select  the  old  home  as  a  good  place  of  safety. 
Nathaniel,  from  thee  he  has  nothing  to  fear,  I  know." 

John .  bowed  so  profoundly  as  to  suggest  a  defiance  or 
an  impertinence.  The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met,  and, 
swift  as  the  firing  of  a  gun,  the  pupils  of  both  dilated 
with  anger.  Nathaniel's  flashed  with  a  blue  flame,  and 
the  blood  rushed  crimson  over  his  face  and  brow.  For 
it  was  a  glance  of  recognition  to  him.  He  was  sure  that 
he  saw  John  de  Burg,  and  he  knew  why  he  had  been 
sent  to  Sandys. 

John  was  the  only  person  at  ease  in  the  situation.  He 
lifted  a  volume  of  George  Herbert  and  began  to  read 
stray  lines  and  couplets  from  it,  and  to  invite  Olivia  to 
comment  upon  them  :  — 

"  Dare  to  be  true  :  nothing  can  need  a  lie  ; 
A  fault,  which  needs  it  most,  grows  two  thereby." 

John  found  an  illustration  of  this  dictum  in  his  own  ex 
perience.  He  made  Olivia  confess  that  it  had  been 
better  for  him  as  Harald  Sandys  than  it  would  have 
been  had  he  assumed  another  name.  He  kept  to  this 
subject  with  a  persistence  which  drove  Nathaniel  to  the 
verge  of  passionately  assailing  his  identity  ;  for  in  the  few 
minutes'  observation  of  his  face  while  speaking,  Nathaniel's 
insight  had  changed  suspicion  into  certainty. 

The  fine  profile  of  almost  savage  intensity  was  the 
De  Burg  profile,  exaggerated  by  John's  especially  wicked 
character.  The  eyes  sombre,  tawny  in  colour,  cold  and 
sinister  in  expression,  moved  in  the  same  bluish  opal  that 
made  Anastasia's  soft  orbs  so  remarkable.  He  carried 
his  head  high,  with  the  same  domineering  look  which 


ANASTAS1A   AND   OLIVIA.  85 

distinguished  all  the  De  Burgs.  He  had  also  their  full, 
abrupt  voice ;  but  the  cool  stare,  blushless  as  that  of  a 
bull,  was  doubtless  a  quality  which  he  owed  entirely  to 
his  own  shameless  cultivation  of  it. 

The  desultory  reading  and  conversation  went  on  for 
about  ten  minutes,  during  which  time  Nathaniel  was 
observing  and  deciding.  Suddenly  into  the  strained, 
suspicious  atmosphere  came  the  sound  of  a  shrill,  gay 
voice,  the  tapping  of  light  heels  upon  the  stone  passage, 
the  swish  and  rustle  of  trailing  silk  garments.  Olivia 
stood  up  pale  and  discomposed,  while  a  quick  intelli 
gence  as  to  the  interruption  flashed  into  John  de  Burg's 
face.  This  circumstance  was  instantly  noted  by  Nathan 
iel  ;  so  that  the  final  confirmation  of  Anastasia's  entrance 
was  scarcely  needed  by  him.  She  advanced  trippingly, 
with  the  prettiest  courtesy  and  the  brightest  smiles. 

"Mistress  Prideaux,  I  am  hugely  pleased  to  see  you. 
Faith,  I  thought  I  never  would  come  at  you  !  There  is 
a  stupid  old  man  at  your  door  who  would  have  denied 
me  entrance  at  all  points,  had  I  let  him.  Captain 
Kelder,  you  look  yourself  to  a  miracle.  Pray,  do  you 
ever  mean  to  smile  again?" 

She  had  taken  Olivia's  hand,  and  was  gazing  into  the 
girl's  face  with  all  the  inquisitive  mockery  of  her  nature  ; 
but  by  this  time  Olivia  was  quite  composed.  It  had 
taken  her  but  a  moment  to  reflect  that  Harald  Sandys 
could  be  in  no  political  danger  from  Mistress  de  Burg ; 
and  she  said  with  a  grave,  sweet  manner,  "Doubtless 
Harald  Sandys  is  known  to  thee.  We  have  been  favoured 
to  give  him  help  in  trouble." 

"  All  who  suffer  for  the  king  are  known  to  me,"  an 
swered  Anastasia ;  and  she  gave  her  hand  to  her  brother 
with  a  face  full  of  conflicting  feeling,  though  Nathaniel 
perceived  that  the  humour  of  the  situation  was  predomi- 


86  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

nant,  and  that  the  girl  had  much  to  do  to  prevent  herself 
turning  it  into  an  occasion  for  mirth.  A  glance  from  her 
brother  brought  her  to  reason,  and  with  the  utmost 
manner  of  a  fine  lady,  she  said,  — 

"  I  am  but  a  bad  neighbour,  Mistress  Prideaux,  and 
you  have  good  reason  to  be  rude  to  me  now,  but  to  say 
truth,  I  have  been  hindered  from  coming  a  score  of 
times ;  for  I  assure  you  that  I  have  not  fallen  out  with 
all  the  world  because  the  Lord  Protector  and  my  Cousin 
Kelder  cannot  agree  with  me.  Yet  truly"  —  and  she 
looked  at  Nathaniel  with  eyes  full  of  reproachful  sad 
ness  —  "I  have  been  tempted  to  fly  from  so  many 
unkind  circumstances.  'T  is  said  the  king  hath  ever 
a  welcome  for  a  merry  heart,  and  I  hear  there  is  a  ship 
lying  off  this  coast  for  some  who  will  take  refuge  with 
him." 

This  last  piece  of  information  was  given  with  a  mean 
ing  glance  at  her  brother,  and  Nathaniel  instantly  under 
stood  why  Olivia  had  received  a  visit  from  Mistress  de 
Burg.  John's  ship  was  waiting  for  him,  and  she  had 
come  to  give  him  the  information.  Having  done  so  she 
turned  the  conversation  with  a  rapid  and  graceful  adroit 
ness  upon  the  weather  and  the  flowers  and  the  gentle 
woman  whom  she  was  going  to  visit  as  she  passed 
through  Milnthorpe.  Her  name  again  brought  up  that 
of  the  king ;  and  John,  either  carelessly  or  as  a  matter  of 
defiance,  spoke  of  the  Protector  as  "Old  Noll." 

The  very  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  tingling  and 
provocative.  John,  in  the  sense  of  the  security  afforded 
by  the  near  presence  of  his  ship,  assumed  an  attitude  in 
describably  irritating.  Anastasia's  conversation  was  full 
of  covert  innuendoes,  thinly  veiled  by  an  almost  offensive 
politeness.  Nathaniel's  face  showed  that  he  had  made 
his  last  concession  to  the  social  courtesies  the  situation 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  87 

demanded.  Then  Olivia,  whose  repose  of  manner  and 
low  voice  had  been  in  singular  contrast  to  the  restless, 
irritable  spirit  of  her  visitors,  rose,  and  saying  something 
about  "refreshments,"  left  the  room.  For  eating  and 
drinking  together  has  ever  been  the  English  fetish  for 
averting  quarrels,  or  for  their  reconciliation. 

As  she  closed  the  door  John  and  his  sister  went  to-* 
ward  an  open  window ;  but  Nathaniel,  who  was  radiating 
anger  as  a  lamp  radiates  light,  could  restrain  himself  no 
longer. 

"John  de  Burg,"  he  said,  "go  at  this  moment,  or  I 
will  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the  Commonwealth." 

"  My  excellent  cousin,  John  is  now  ready  to  go.  The 
pretty  Quakeress  has  served  his  turn."  It  was  Anastasia 
who  spoke,  facing  him  suddenly  with  her  sweeping  cour 
tesy  and  her  scornful  smile.  Her  brother's  countenance 
was  an  epitome  of  every  evil  passion,  and  he  instantly 
supplemented  his  sister's  words  with  the  remark,  — 

"  I  am  going  on  my  own  orders,  not  on  yours." 

He  was  counting  some  gold  as  he  spoke ;  and  as  he 
put  it  in  his  pouch  he  glared  at  Nathaniel  with  an  im 
pudent  and  rancorous  leer,  and  added,  "  I  am  in  your 
debt,  Cousin  Kelder.  I  will  pay  you.  I  will  pay  you 
well.  By  every  devil  in  hell,  I  swear  it !  " 

Nathaniel's  hand  was  on  his  sword ;  he  was  in  the 
act  of  advancing,  when  John  by  a  rapid  leap  through 
the  window  evaded  the  intended  arrest.  Anastasia 
instantly  placed  herself  in  the  way.  She  was  the  incar 
nation  of  rage,  and  through  her  set  teeth  she  hissed  at 
him  the  first  contemptuous  words  which  came  to  the 
relief  of  her  passion.  They  were  too  unwomanly  to  be 
answered,  and  Nathaniel  heard  them  with  profound 
shame  and  sadness.  They  ended,  as  such  words  gener 
ally  do,  in  a  threat,  — 


88  FRIEND' OLIVIA. 

"  John  will  pay  you,  sir,  for  these  two  minutes ;  and 
I  will  help  him." 

"Anastasia,  you  will  do  as  you  desire  in  the  future. 
At  this  moment  you  will  do  as  I  desire ;  that  is,  you 
will  leave  Sandys  at  once.  You  have  shamefully  wronged 
its  kindness  and  goodness.  Make  your  adieus  when 
Mistress  Prideaux  comes  in.  You  shall  not  eat  and  drink 
with  her.  You  are  unworthy  to  be  in  her  presence." 

"  The  sweet  saint !  So  that  is  the  way  the  wind  blows, 
is  it?" 

He  did  not  answer  her ;  and  she  continued  her  pas 
sionate  tirade,  making  both  her  face  and  her  body  part 
ners  with  her  tongue  in  the  expression  of  her  contempt 
and  hatred. 

"  The  canting  little  Quakeress  !  "  with  a  snap  of  her 
long  white  fingers.  "  I  am  to  do  her  honour  and  horn- 
age,  am  I?  "  with  a  scornful  courtesy  to  the  words. 

"  Only  make  your  .  respects  to  her  as  quickly  as 
possible." 

"  Faith,  sir !  I  will  make  no  respects  to  her.  Too 
much  grace  for  the  simpering  '  thee  '  and  '  thou ' ;  "  and 
with  the  contempt  of  the  words  defacing  and  darkening 
her  beautiful  face,  she  passionately  flung  open  the  door 
and  left  him. 

The  temper  of  her  departure  she  cared  not  to  hide ; 
and  amid  the  hurry  and  clatter  of  carriage  doors  and 
carriage  horses  it  was  easy  to  distinguish  the  imperious 
tones  of  her  shrill,  clear  voice. 

In  the  height  of  the  turmoil  Olivia  returned  to  the 
room.  She  had  in  her  hands  a  small  silver  tray  holding 
a  seed-cake  and  some  cowslip  wine.  Her  plain  black 
dress  and  the  snowy  purity  of  its  deep  lawn  cuffs  and 
neckerchief  accentuated  the  slight  flush  upon  her  cheeks. 
Her  clear  eyes  were  troubled;  her  gentle  manner  had 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  89 

lost  something  of  its  serene  repose.  She  looked  at  Na 
thaniel  curiously,  and  then  noticed  that  he  was  alone. 

"  It  seemeth  as  if  something  was  wrong.  Was  it 
indeed  Mistress  de  Burg  who  left  in  such  anger  ?  Where 
is  Harald  Sandys?  Surely  thou  hast  not  been  quarrel 
ling  with  them,  Nathaniel?" 

"  The  man  who  was  here  is  not  fit  for  your  presence. 
I  have  sent  him  away." 

"  Thou  art  angry,  and  thou  art  going  too  far.  My 
father's  wisdom  passeth  for  a  general  report,  and  he 
thinketh  well  of  the  young  man." 

"  But  I  know  him  to  be  only  evil." 

"  We  are  forbidden  to  judge,  and  Harald  Sandys  —  " 

"  He  is  not  Harald  Sandys ;  he  is  the  brother  of 
Mistress  de  Burg." 

"John  de  Burg?  " 

She  could  hardly  ask  the  question,  and  Nathaniel 
answered  her  only  by  a  movement  of  affirmation.  The 
horror  of  the  girl  was  unmistakable,  though  she  sat  down 
and  remained  for  some  moments  motionless.  It  was 
evident  John  de  Burg's  history  was  known  to  her,  and 
indeed  Nathaniel  had  little  to  add  in  explanation  of  his 
conduct.  For,  knowing  all,  Olivia  saw  at  once  that  it 
was  the  only  possible  course ;  and  she  was  the  first  to 
speak  of  what  had  hitherto  escaped  Nathaniel's  notice, 
—  the  possibility  of  her  father  getting  into  trouble  with 
the  Government  for  sheltering  its  outlaw. 

"  My  father  did  it  willingly ;  for  nine  days  he  has 
sheltered  him.  He  also  asked  from  Edward  D'Acre  a 
change  of  clothing  for  him.  Oh,  Nathaniel !  my  heart 
misgives  me  sorely." 

Nathaniel  looked  at  the  sorrowful  girl,  and  his  heart 
ached  to  comfort  her.  Words  of  affection  sprang  to  his 
lips;  but  he  would  not,  at  their  first  outflow,  mingle 


90  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

them  with  words  of  fear  and  wrong.  Besides,  he  saw 
that  Olivia  was  inclined  to  silence.  She  was  waiting  for 
a  greater  Comforter  and  Counsellor  than  himself.  So 
he  went  away  from  Sandys  soon  after  Anastasia,  and 
rode  slowly  toward  his  home  by  the  road  on  which  he 
expected  to  meet  Roger  Prideaux. 

He  was  very  much  disturbed  and  depressed ;  appre 
hensions  came  in  crowds,  and  the  low,  melancholy  tones 
of  the  bleating  flocks  seemed  to  voice  them.  He  met 
Roger  about  five  miles  from  Sandys.  His  broad  face, 
shrewd  and  homely,  had  not  its  usual  benignity ;  indeed, 
it  had  the  expression  of  a  man  who  had  worries  of  his 
own.  Nathaniel  told  him  plainly  whom  he  had  been 
entertaining,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  had  rid  him 
of  his  guest.  The  news  startled  "and  troubled  Roger; 
yet  it  was  not  altogether  bad,  for  he  confessed  that  he 
had  been  anxious  about  the  man's  right  to  Sandys,  and 
had  entered  into  an  obligation  to  buy  that  right  for  a 
sum  of  ready  money.  And  he  had  just  been  to  a  wealthy 
neighbour's  to  obtain  a  temporary  loan  for  the  purpose, 
as  the  claimant,  he  said,  had  become  uneasy  to  get  for 
ward  on  the  king's  business. 

"  It  is  most  certain,  Roger,  that  your  guest  was  John 
de  Burg;  and  that  after  trespassing  upon  your  home, 
he  intended  to  rob  you  of  your  money.  I  have  no  doubt 
he  fell  a-laughing  at  you  a  dozen  times  a  day." 

"  God  forgive  him  !  " 

"  I  would  at  once  convey  to  the  proper  officers  all 
particulars  of  this  affair.  I  fear,  otherwise,  that  it  may 
be  made  an  occasion  against  you." 

"  What  time  hath  passed  since  the  man  left  Sandys?  " 

"About  two  hours." 

"  Then  he  is  manifestly  beyond  arrest.  I  doubt  not 
there  was  a  small  boat  waiting  at  the  nearest  point  for 


AN  AST  AS  I  A   AND   OLIVIA.  91 

him.  He  is  on  his  own  ship  by  this  time.  I  will  seek 
after  counsel  and  clearness  before  I  speak  abroad  of  the 
matter." 

"  It  is  such  a  matter  as  may  be  severely  dealt  with." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  weighty  and  perplexing  dispensation ; 
but  I  trust  that  I  shall  be  given  to  see  the  right  way. 
Whom  dost  thou  fear?  Speak  plainly." 

"  Mistress  de  Burg." 

Roger  smiled  dubiously.  "  She  hath  her  own  plans ; 
they  touch  not  me  or  mine,  I  think.  And  I  have  proved 
that  the  strength  of  silence  is  greater  than  the  strength 
of  speech." 

Then  they  parted ;  Nathaniel  full  of  a  vague  trouble, 
yet  in  sacerdotal  sympathy  with  all  around  him.  The 
soft  gray  afternoon  was  fast  merging  into  a  dull  red  on 
the  horizon,  the  hedgerows  were  growing  indistinct,  the 
wider  landscape  was  a  dim  outline  of  light  and  shadow. 
Soon  the  vapours  rolling  down  the  valleys  made  the 
lonely  scene  more  lonesome.  The  events  of  the  day 
fitted  themselves  into  it ;  the  singular  impression  which 
sent  him  to  Sandys,  John  de  Burg's  threat  of  injury, 
Anastasia's  words  of  scorn  and  hate,  —  all  grew  remote 
and  indistinct  as  the  natural  world  around  him  ;  while  the 
dull  heavy  sound  of  the  sea,  its  confused  tones,  its  sigh 
ing  surges,  seemed  the  indistinct  utterance  of  his  own 
unutterable  emotions.  And  as  he  approached  Kelderby 
the  moon  rose,  and  in  its  light  he  was  conscious  of  a 
strange  backward  prescience,  a  mysterious  memory  of 
some  existence  where  the  sandy  shores  were  longer,  and 
the  hills  far  higher,  and  the  sense  of  life  more  sweet 
and  strong. 

It  was  strange  that  amid  all  these  thoughts  Olivia  had 
no  distinct  pre-eminence  ;  for  the  soul  is  not  always  on  its 
watch-tower,  —  it  has  periods  of  carelessness,  for  which 


92  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

it  often  sorrows  with  a  hopeless  regret.  And  no  intima 
tion  of  what  followed  on  his  leaving  Sandys  troubled 
Nathaniel.  He  had  seen  the  departure  of  John  and 
Anastasia  de  Burg,  and  it  never  entered  his  mind  that 
either  of  them  would  return.  But  he  knew  nothing  of 
the  nature  of  a  woman  like  Anastasia.  Before  she  had 
quite  reached  Milnthorpe  the  Devil  whispered  a  few 
words  in  her  heart  which  turned  the  tempest  of  her 
passion  into  a  sudden  calm. 

"Why  not?"  she  asked.  "Why  not?  If  he  is  still 
there,  I  will  confront  them  both.  I  will  claim  his  hand, 
and  vow  I  had  his  promise.  The  little  saint  will  be  so 
much  of  a  woman  as  to  believe  me.  If  he  is  not  there, 
I  can  say  whatever  pleaseth  me.  Yes,  I  will  grant  my 
self  this  gratification.  I  can  rest  all  night  at  Milnthorpe 
with  Mistress  Cecil.  Faith,  I  will  not  go  back  to  De 
Burg  owing  myself  so  much." 

Instantly  she  turned  the  carriage  back  to  Sandys. 
Fortunately,  Olivia  saw  her  approach  while  she  was  yet 
at  some  distance,  and  her  well- trained  mind  instantly 
began  to  subdue  itself  to  a  settled  calm  and  purpose. 
Anastasia  fully  expected  to  find  her  in  tears  and  dis 
traction,  for  she  reasoned  thus :  "  If  Nathaniel  has  de 
livered  her  so  much  of  my  affairs  as  to  explain  that 
Harald  Sandys  is  John  de  Burg,  she  will  be  weeping  out 
her  horror  to  him.  If  he  has  not  told  her,  they  have 
probably  quarrelled  on  the  seciecy  of  the  affair.  Do 
Quakers  quarrel  ?  'T  is  a  point  of  indifference ;  for 
if  she  speech  not  her  anger,  it  will  nest  in  her  heart  and 
breed  more  and  worse." 

Asa  Bevin  met  her  at  the  door  with  a  doubly  forbid 
ding  aspect.  But  his  deliberate  speech  and  manner 
was  no  impediment  to  the  resolute  woman.  She  had 
passed  him  before  his  first  words  of  remonstrance  were 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  93 

uttered,  and  again  Olivia  heard  her  rapid  tread  upon 
the  flagged  passage,  and  again  saw  her  enter  the  room 
in  a  still  more  exaggerated  flurry  of  rustling  silk  and 
flying  ribbons. 

She  was  dashed  by  its  perfect  stillness  and  order. 
The  wine  and  cake  had  been  removed.  Every  chair 
»v.i3  in  its  place.  Olivia  sat  with  her  hands  dropped  on 
her  lap,  gazing  out  of  the  windov/.  She  rose  courteously 
as  Anastasia  approached,  but  with  an  air  of  reserve,  and 
waited  for  her  visitor  to  address  her. 

"  Mistress  Prideaux,  I  left  in  something  of  a  hurry ; 
for,  to  say  truth,  Captain  Kelder  roused  in  me  more 
temper  than  I  usually  carry  about.  To  speak  plainly, 
you  must  know  that  he  hath  the  promise  of  my  hand,  — 
a  promise  which  lately  he  values  too  little.  I  am  ad 
vised  that  you  are  the  excuse  for  his  unkindness." 

"  I  am  sorry  thou  thinkest  so  unworthily  of  him,  and 
of  me.  I  have  given  thee  no  reason." 

"  Marry  !  I  believe  you  not.  Captain  Kelder  is  such 
a  man  as  would  be  beyond  the  nay- say  of  a  girl  of  your 
breeding  and  condition." 

"  My  breeding  teaches  me  to  take  no  man  into  my 
thoughts  until  he  has  sought  them  with  honour." 

"That  is  beyond  Captain  Kelder.  He  is  already 
promised." 

"  And  my  condition  is  one  that  may  ask  civility,  even 
from  thee." 

"  I  tell  you  plainly  that  Captain  Kelder  is  bound  to 
me.  You  have  no  right  to  entertain  him." 

"Thou  art  going  too  far.  Thou  must  keep  to  thy 
own  rights." 

"  I  will  take  no  correction  from  you." 

"But  thou  must  in  this  matter.  My  father's  guests 
are  to  be  entertained  by  me." 


94  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  Captain  Kelder  is  a  liar  and  a  villain.  You  ought  to 
give  me  credit  for  the  warning.  I  '11  swear  I  cried  for 
you  when  I  saw  him  here." 

"  I  am  sorry  thou  hast  such  evil  thoughts.  And  if 
Nathaniel  Kelder  hath  been  false  to  thee,  then  truly  it  is 
best  to  weep  for  thyself." 

"  Oh,  you  cunning  Quaker  wench  !  Faith,  but  you  are, 
clever  in  bandying  words  !  " 

Olivia  turned  slightly  from  her  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Answer  me  !  " 

"  I  am  forbidden  to  give  railing  for  railing." 

"  Day  of  the  Devil !     You  shall  answer  me  !  " 

"  I  will  have  no  quarrel  with  thee.  Be  pleased  to  re 
move  thyself  from  my  presence." 

So  far  both  had  remained  standing.  Olivia  now  re 
turned  to  her  chair.  Anastasia  made  an  attempt  to  fol 
low  her  example,  but  the  impetuosity  of  her  passion 
would  not  brook  the  constraint  of  the  posture.  She 
stood,  she  walked,  she  stood  again  before  the  girl  she 
was  torturing,  feeling  a  certain  dominance  in  the  attitude 
which  increased  her  insolence. 

"  I  will  go  anon,  —  when  I  am  ready.  Do  you  know 
that  you  are  in  my  power,  —  under  my  feet  ?  For  I  shall 
please  myself  with  giving  information  against  you.  Yes  ! 
it  takes  a  Quakeress  to  hide  a  handsome  malignant  plot 
ting  against  the  Commonwealth.  Faith  !  you  shall  pay 
sweetly  for  the  pleasure  of  Harald  Sandys's  company." 

"  Thou  art  not  speaking  the  truth.  Thou  knowest 
that  Harald  Sandys  was  never  here  at  all." 

"  With  your  gracious   leave   I   will   affirm    he   was ! 
'T  was  your  own  tongue  told  the  lie,  and  it  puts  me 
in  a  humour  of  delight  to  confirm  it." 
.     "  Thou  knowest  well  that  I  was  deceived,  and  that  it 
was  thy  own  wicked  brother." 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  95 

"  It  was  my  — '  own  —  wicked  —  brother  ? '  Lord  ! 
I  would  give  my  golden  scent-coffer  if  my  —  'own  — 
wicked  —  brother  '  could  hear  you.  John  de  Burg  in  the 
3eat  of  the  godly,  listening  to  experiences,  favoured  with 
an  evidence,  waiting  for  counsels,  and  feeling  drawn 
toward  thee  all  the  while  !  It  is  most  delectable.  You 
sweet  saint !  Do  you  know  what  you  will  have  to  pay 
for  this  honour  ?  John  is  a  luxury.  Outlaws  cost  money. 
Pray,  did  he  make  love  to  you?  Did  he  vow  that  for 
your  sake  he  would  forswear  murdering  and  practise 
praying?  And  is  Nathaniel,  the  dear  religious  youth, 
jealous  of  him?  Lord  !  I  shall  die  with  the  fun  of  it. 
T  will  serve  me  to  laugh  at  for  seven  years  to  come." 

At  this  moment  Asa  Bevin  entered  the  room.  He 
cast  his  eyes  first  upon  Olivia.  She  had  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands,  but  she  was  not  weeping.  She  had 
only  shut  Anastasia  from  her  sight,  in  order  that  she 
might  the  more  easily  be  deaf  to  her  reviling  and  centre 
her  whole  consciousness  upon  Him  who  could  hide  her  in 
a  pavilion  from  the  strife  of  tongues.  The  perfect  still 
ness  of  her  attitude  relieved  Asa ;  he  felt  that  she  had 
retired  into  a  peace  beyond  the  fretful  fever  and  stir  of 
this  world,  and  he  turned  suddenly  upon  Anastasia  :  — 

"  Thy  chariot  is  waiting,  and  thou  must  go." 

She  looked  with  contemptuous  anger  at  the  little  old 
man  in  his  prim  garments  and  tall  stiff  hat,  and  asked, 

"  Pray,  who  may  you  be  ?  The  goldsmith  from  Paul's 
Walk,  eh?" 

"  I  am  not  bound  to  tell  thee  my  name,  but  so  far  I 
will  humour  thy  poor  pride.  I  am  Asa  Bev.in,  house- 
steward  to  Roger  Prideaux.  Thy  chariot  is  waiting,  and 
thou  must  go." 

"  Base-born  churl !     Off  with  your  hat  in  my  presence  ! " 

"  A  good  man  is  the  son  qf  the  living  God,  and  it  ig  a 


96  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

crime  in  thee  to  call  him  '  base.'  And  thou  mightst  as 
reasonably  bid  me  off  with  my  coat  as  my  hat.  I  will 
off  with  neither  in  thy  presence  Wilt  thou  go?  Or  shall 
I  send  thy  men  for  Stephen  de  Burg  to  bring  thee  to  thy 
own  place?" 

"What  say  you,  fellow?  Out  of  my  way  !  I  have  a 
month's  mind  to  make  my  men  flog  you  for  an  insolent 
Quaker  rogue.  Mistress  Prideaux,  remember  this  zpth 
of  May.  You  shall  date  many  an  evil  day  from  it.  Fel 
low,  open  the  door  !  I  am  thankful  to  escape  this  pes 
tilent  house.  And  tell  your  master  I  will  haste  to  do 
him  all  the  mischief  I  can." 

"  Thou  wilt  do  what  thou  art  permitted  to  do,  and  no 
more.  The  wrath  of  man  —  ay,  even  the  wrath  of  woman 
—  shall  praise  Him,  and  the  rest  of  the  wrath  He  will 
restrain." 

"  I  will  move  heaven  and  earth  for  his  ruin." 

"  Heaven  and  earth  are  God's,  not  thine." 

"  A  pack  of  snivelling,  canting,  Quaker  knaves  !  " 

"Canst  thou  not  speak  without  snarling  dog- words? 
The  Lord  rebuke  thee." 

"  You  are  an  impudent  varlet.  I  swear  I  will  bring 
you  down  to  extremities." 

"  Well,  then,  Christ  for  my  share." 

Asa  was  growing  calmer  at  every  threat,  and  the  angry 
woman,  feeling  her  impotence  against  his  steady  soul, 
was  glad  when  the  clashing  of  her  chariot-door  and  the 
trampling  of  her  horses'  feet  gave  her  the  semblance  of 
a  triumphant  escape  from  the  scene  of  her  shameful  as 
sault.  For  though  she  had  met  with  so  little  resistance, 
she  felt  herself  to  be  utterly  defeated  and  humiliated. 

Roger  met  her  in  the  park.  He  stood  aside  to  per 
mit  the  chariot  to  pass  and  caught  a  glance  of  the  hand 
some  angry  face  within  it.  He  had  also  a  presentiment 


ANASTASIA   AND   OLIVIA.  97 

that  it  was  Anastasia  de  Burg,  and  a  sudden  fear  for  his 
daughter  made  him  hasten  his  steps.  But  when  he  en 
tered  the  parlour  there  was  no  trace  of  the  stormy  act  of 
which  it  had  just  been  the  scene.  Asa  was  directing  the 
spreading  of  the  evening  meal,  a  servant  was  putting 
fresh  logs  upon  the  fire,  Olivia  sat  in  the  hearth-light 
knitting.  The  homely  duties  quieted  him.  When  his 
eyes  saw  them  his  lips  uttered  a  blessing.  But  he  sat 
long  with  his  child  that  night,  talking  over  the  events  of 
the  day,  for  they  felt  that  the  situation  was  one  involving 
danger  and  trouble. 

"  How  forcible  are  right  words  !  "  said  Job.  But  he 
might  have  said,  with  equal  truth,  How  forcible  are 
wrong  words  !  It  was  impossible  to  exorcise  the  in 
fluence  which  Anastasia  had  scattered  abroad.  The 
room  retained  the  clamorous  echoes,  the  atmosphere  of 
unrest  and  fear  and  hate,  with  which  it  had  been  charged 
by  the  passionate  woman.  So  the  stillness  and  peace  of 
the  upper  chambers  was  a  sensible  relief.  Roger  shut 
the  door  of  his  bedroom  and  then  asked  himself, — 

"Why  art  thou  so  heavy,  O  my  soul?  Thou  art 
girded  round  by  God.  This  is  the  rest  that  never  can 
be  shaken." 

Olivia  was  equally  glad  of  the  change.  She  stood 
motionless  a  few  minutes  in  the  centre  of  the  spotlessness 
and  peace  of  her  sanctuary ;  but  she  was  conscious  of  a 
great  inward  tumult.  Anastasia's  bitter  words  still  stung 
her  soul,  and  she  could  hardly  restrain  the  sharp  low 
cries  that  would  fain  have  voiced  her  suffering.  If  Anas 
tasia  spoke  truth,  then  how  false  was  Nathaniel  Kelder  ! 

The  first  sorrow  of  womanhood  had  found  her  out. 
Its  restless  pain  amazed  and  terrified  her,  and  for  a  few 
moments  she  gave  way  to  the  passionate  fear  and  love  in 
her  heart.  She  trembled  like  a  reed  in  a  great  wind, 

7 


98  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

and  the  word  "  Nathaniel !  "  broke  through  her  closed 
lips.  At  the  sound  she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  white  drapery  of  her  couch.  It  was  the 
revelation  of  mortal  love,  and  its  first  monitions  filled  her 
with  fear.  Was  she  indeed  putting  the  creature  before 
her  Creator?  a  mortal  man  before  Him  whom  her  soul 
loved,  and  who  had  loved  her  from  everlasting? 

With  a  swift  abnegation,  with  eyes  raining  tears,  she 
resigned  everything,  gave  up  all  her  will,  and  all  her  de 
sire,  and  all  the  sweet  thoughts  of  love  that  had  sprung 
up  within  her  heart.  Then  a  great  calm  encompassed 
her,  and  her  soul  refreshed  itself  in  waves  of  peace  and 
joy  that  came,  as  come  the  winds  of  God,  —  whence,  and 
how,  unknown  to  mortal  comprehension. 


VI. 

SORROW   HATH   MANY   FEET. 

"  King  of  the  Pelasgians,  various  are  the  ills  of  men ;  nowhere  canst 
thou  behold  the  same  wing  of  trouble." 

"  But  every  one  bears  a  ready  evil  tongue,  .  .  .  and  to  speak  slander  is 
an  easy  thing." 

/~PHE  village  of  Kelderby  consisted  of  about  fifty 
•*•  cottages  clustered  around  the  church  and  its 
burial-yard.  It  was  inhabited  chiefly  by  shepherds  and 
husbandmen ;  the  fishers  and  shrimp-gatherers  dwelling 
in  a  smaller  hamlet  below  the  cliff,  almost  upon  the  sea- 
sands.  The  two  hamlets  were  known  in  the  neighbour 
hood  as  Upper  and  Lower  Kelder ;  but  the  village  had 
no  market,  and  no  special  industry,  neither  was  it  upon 
any  great  highway,  —  only  a  pretty,  lonely  place,  as  nat 
ural  to  its  locality  as  the  bluebells  were  to  the  hills 
around  it. 

As  Nathaniel  rode  through  the  winding  street  a  pleas 
ant  sense  of  its  homeliness  fell  upon  his  heart.  The  calm, 
serious  men,  smoking  on  the  stone  benches  by  their  cot 
tages,  and  the  women  with  their  arms  folded  under  their 
aprons,  both  alike  gave  him  a  cheerful  "  Good  e'en, 
sir."  And  the  little  lads  and  lasses  playing  "  How  far 
to  Babylon?"  stopped  their  game  a  moment  to  doff 
their  worsted  caps  or  drop  a  courtesy  to  him.  And  in 
the  dim,  misty  gloaming  the  men  and  the  women  and 
the  elfish- looking  children  affected  him  very  much  like 


IOO  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

figures  seen  in  a  dream.  He  knew  them,  and  the)' 
knew  him  ;  but  the  far-off,  sensitive  mood  of  his  mind 
gave  to  all  the  unreality  and  remoteness  of  a  vision  of 
the  night. 

When  he  entered  the  park  he  made  an  effort  to  fling 
off  this  unworldlike  phantasm,  and  with  the  help  of  a 
brisk  gallop  he  entered  Kelderby  in  a  more  lively  and 
vigilant  temper.  The  house  was  still  and  duskish.  It 
was  just  the  moment  at  which  it  might,  or  might  not,  be 
lighted  for  the  evening ;  and  as  it  happened  Jael  was  in 
the  more  lingering  humour. 

The  sitting-room  was  empty,  and  though  the  baron's 
chair  by  the  window  held  a  volume  by  Mr.  Richard  Bax 
ter,  it  had  the  air  of  a  book  which  did  not  expect  to  be 
talked  with  again  that  night ;  and  Lady  Kelder's  wheel 
by  the  hearth  wore  also  the  same  aspect  of  loneliness. 
Nathaniel  had  prepared  himself  for  sympathy,  and  he  felt 
disappointed.  However,  he  guessed  that  his  mother  was 
in  her  own  room,  and  he  went  thither.  His  light,  de 
cided  tap  was  instantly  recognized  :  — 

"  Come  in,  Nathaniel." 

There  was  extreme  sadness  in  her  voice,  and  Nathaniel 
opened  the  door  with  an  uncertain  fear.  Lady  Kelder 
knelt  by  her  dower  chest ;  her  elbows  were  upon  it,  her 
brows  rested  against  her  folded  hands ;  a  book  lay  below 
them,  and  Nathaniel,  seeing  it,  understood  the  pathetic 
resignation  of  her  attitude.  He  knew  that  if  he  should 
lift  it  he  would  find  the  "  Prayer  on  the  Death  of  a 
Child,"  wet  and  crinkled  with  tears,  especially  at  the 
top  of  the  page  which  had  been  turned  to  for  its 
"  Consolation  "  :  — 

"  If  it  stayed  not  here  to  enjoye  Pleasure,  soe  neither  did  it 
Stay  to  be  pined  away  with  Sorrow  and  Care.  It  lived  not 
long  enough  to  be  versed  in  all  the  Vexations  of  our  State, 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  IOI 

nor  to  run  thro'  that  Great  Varietie  of  Miseryes  and  Misfor 
tunes  which  are  incident  here  to  our  Nature  :  But  went  off 
before  it  had  time  to  trye  how  much  evil  is  to  be  Endured  in 
this  Life  ;  yes,  before  it  was  come  to  aggravate  any  afflictions 
by  imagination,  or  to  anticipate  the  same  by  Fear,  or  to  reflect 
in  bitterness  of  Spirit,  aad  lay  to  heart  what  it  did  endure." 1 

"  My  dear,  dear  mother  !  " 

He  stooped  and  gently  removed  her  folded  hands,  and 
lifted  her  wet  face  and  kissed  it.  "  My  mother,  my  dear 
mother  !  " 

"  It  is  twenty  years  ago  to-day,  Nathaniel.  Surely  you 
have  not  forgotten  !  I  can  see  them  taking  her  to  her 
burial.  Down  that  path  they  went,"  and  she  rose  and 
looked  from  the  window ;  "  the  coffin  was  covered  with 
hawthorns  and  lilies,  and  twelve  of  her  companions, 
wearing  white  lawn,  carried  her.  They  were  singing  as 
they  went ;  and,  oh,  Nathaniel,  I  hear  their  voices  now  ! 
It  was  such  a  lovely  afternoon,  and  the  sounds  filled  the 
garden.  The  lilac-trees  were  all  abloom ;  if  they  could 
•speak  they  would  tell  you  they  had  not  forgotten." 

"  Mother,  noae  of  us  have  forgotten.  But  should  we 
weep  for  her  ?  Think  of  all  she  has  gained,  —  and  of  all 
she  has  missed." 

"  Missed  ?  Yes,  the  child-bearing  and  the  child-los 
ing  ;  the  vain  cares,  the  still  vainer  hopes ;  the  terror  of 
griefs  looked  for,  the  agony  of  those  that  come ;  all  the 
wrongs  of  wifehood,  all  the  bitter  wrongs  of  motherhood, 
—  she  is  well  out  of  them.  Little  joy  has  earth,  and 
much  sorrow,  —  much  and  hard  sorrow." 

Nathaniel  could  not  answer.  He  only  drew  her  close 
to  his  side  and  kissed  her  wet  eyelids ;  and  as  he  did  so 
the  tears  filled  his  own  eyes,  and  he  said  to  his  soul, 
"  Oh,  wonderful  mother-love  !  " 

1  "  Deathe  made  Comfortable."  Devotional  book  of  sixteenth 
century. 


IO2  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Come,  we  will  go  to  the  parlour.  The  dead  wish  not 
to  wrong  the  living." 

She  cooled  her  face  with  some  sweet-marjoram  water, 
and  then  put  her  arm  through  her  son's.  Slowly  they 
went  together  down  the  wide  oak  stairway,  making  — 
though  they  thought  not  of  it  —  as  charming  a  picture  as 
any  Mr.  Lely  ever  painted,  —  the  aging  mother  in  her 
black-silk  dress  and  hood  of  white  lace  shading  her  white 
hair ;  the  son,  tall  and  strong,  in  high  boots  and  Spanish 
leather,  and  a  handsome  doubtlet  of  black  velvet. 

The  baron  was  standing  on  the  hearth  gazing  into  the 
fire.  As  they  entered  he  turned  his  face  to  them  with  a 
smile.  The  waiting-men  instantly  began  to  serve  supper. 
Jael  stood  at  her  lady's  chair  with  her  shawl  and  foot 
stool.  As  the  two  women  met  they  looked  understand- 
ingly  at  each  other.  Jael  had  been  weeping  also.  She 
had  been  the  dead  girl's  nurse.  But,  O  mystery  of  Life, 
from  what  lowly  depths  proceed  thy  comforts  !  Lady 
Kelder  on  sitting  down  saw  by  her  plate  a  handful  of  wild- 
flowers,  and  her  white  face  flushed,  and  a  gleam  of  happi 
ness  and  hope  came  into  it,  —  a  few  primroses  and  violets 
and  some  leaves  of  rosemary,  tied  with  a  band  of  scented 
ribbon-grass.  She  looked  gratefully  into  her  husband's 
eyes,  and  perceived  that  while  she  had  been  weeping  in 
her  chamber  he  had  been  to  the  grave  to  weep  there. 
The  rosemary  grew  at  its  head,  her  own  hands  had 
planted  the  primroses  that  starred  the  turf,  and  the  vio 
lets  that  made  it  sweet.  The  father-love  had  not  forgot 
ten  either  the  child  or  the  mother. 

Nothing  was  said  during  the  meal  about  Nathaniel's 
sudden  visit  to  Sandys,  but  as  soon  as  possible  afterward 
he  told  the  whole  strange  story.  It  made  a  most  unhappy 
impression ;  and  Lady  Kelder,  who  was  weary  with  emo 
tion,  very  quickly  grew  fretful  over  it. 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  103 

"  It  is  easy  to  sit  still  and  look  troubled,  Odinel,  but 
what  is  to  be  done  ?  I  asked  you  to  let  these  De  Burgs 
alone ;  I  told  you  that  it  was  dangerous  and  foolish  to 
help  the  wicked ;  but  you  were  wiser  than  seven  wise 
men  that  can  render  a  reason,  and  I  was  not  heeded." 

"  My  dear  Joan,  it  is  not  a  question  of  wisdom,  but  of 
kindness.  God  is  good  both  to  the  evil  and  the  righteous." 

"  Yes ;  and  God  gets  very  unhandsomely  treated  for 
being  good  to  the  evil.  Did  you  expect  you  were  to  be 
better  served  than  the  Almighty?  It  passes  my  patience 
that  men  should  ever  be  trying  to  imitate  God's  gener 
osity  without  his  omnipotence." 

"  My  intentions  must  cover  the  mistake,  —  if  there  be 
one ;  they  were  good  and  pure." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  I  observe  that  mistakes  are  punished 
without  regard  to  intentions.  Good  intentions  will  be 
but  a  poor  rooftree  when  De  Burg  turns  you  out  of  your 
home." 

"  Softly,  softly,  Joan.  Why  should  you  think  that  De 
Burg  will  do  such  a  thing?  " 

"  Because  it  will  give  him  pleasure  to  do  it.  See  how 
he  has  served  Roger  Prideaux,  who  never  wrought  him 
harm,  unless  he  raised  his  malice  by  buying  Sandys." 

"  I  think,  with  Nathaniel,  that  De  Burg  knew  nothing 
at  all  of  John's  deception.  It  was  the  doing  of  Anastasia. 
No  one  hath  a  greater  horror  of  his  son's  crimes  than 
Stephen  de  Burg." 

"  I  am  not  so  far  gone  in  folly  as  to  believe  all  that 
Stephen  de  Burg  says  on  that  subject,  —  furious,  of 
course,  at  whatever  blacks  the  honour  of  his  family,  but  at 
the  same  time  conceiving  his  family  to  be  vastly  superior 
to  the  rest  of  the  world.  If  there  be  trouble  about  this 
affair,  De  Burg  will  go  to  Charles  Stuart,  and  his  forfeit 
ure  will  be  demanded  of  you." 


IO4  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  It  will  be  to  his  interest  to  say  nothing." 

"  Do  you  think  Anastasia  will  take  rest  under  the  insult 
of  Nathaniel's  dismissal?  Truly  she  will  not.  And  by 
my  faith  !  I  know  not  why  Nathaniel  should  have  inter 
fered  in  the  matter.  'T  is  the  Quaker's  bad  broth,  and 
if  Nathaniel  thinks  he  can  sup  against  the  Devil  and 
the  Quaker  and  the  De  Burg,  he  will  need  a  long 
spoon." 

"  Roger  Prideaux  is  not  to  be  put  in  such  company, 
Mother." 

"  Indeed,  others  are  of  my  judgment.  Sin  is  like  poi 
son,  —  many  kinds,  but  all  in  their  measure  deadly. 
Stephen  and  Anastasia  de  Burg  are  of  a  quality  differing 
from  Roger  Prideaux,  but  all  poison,  —  all  poison." 

There  were  a  few  moments  of  painful  silence ;  then 
Kelder,  hoping  to  change  the  subject,  said,  "  I  met 
D'Acre  in  the  graveyard.  He  has  had  a  stone  of  the 
primest  quality  put  over  his  father,  and  was  looking  to  it, 
—  a  young  man  of  a  very  sober  humour,  virtuous  and  dis 
creet,  I  think." 

"  High  time  he  remembered  his  father.  He  has  been 
taking  a  wife,  and  so  forgot  the  leading  virtue  until  he 
had  convenience." 

"  Nay,  but  he  is  forward  in  all  honourable  deeds.  He 
was  discoursing  with  me  over  some  new  plot  of  the  Fifth 
Monarchy  Men." 

"  By  troth  and  faith  !  I  am  right  sorry  for  the  Pro 
tector.  Between  the  Fifth  Monarchy  Men,  who  say  the 
Lord  Christ  is  coming,  and  the  Quakers,  who  say  that  he 
is  come  and  dwelling  with  them,  he  hath  but  a  quar 
relsome  time."  Then  stooping  forward  and  touching 
Nathaniel's  arm,  she  continued  :  "  This  concerns  not  us 
in  the  main  particulars ;  our  first  duty  is  to  secure  Kel- 
derby.  That  rests  with  you,  Nathaniel.  To-morrow  go 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  105 

and  see  Anastasia.  Better  bring  her  to  Kelderby  as  your 
wife  than  lose  Kelderby  forever." 

"  Mother,  how  can  I  marry  Anastasia,  she  being  such 
a  woman  as  I  have  told  you?  " 

"  There  is  good  and  evil  in  her,  as  in  all  other  women, 
and  I  blame  her  not  for  her  passion.  Indeed,  it  was  be 
yond  pardon  to  be  put  beneath  that  Quaker  girl.  And 
one  thing  I  see  plainly,  if  we  would  save  Kelderby  it  will 
have  to  be  by  giving  Anastasia  an  interest  in  it." 

"  There  must  be  some  other  way,  Mother.  Such  a 
course  would  stand  neither  with  God's  word  nor  with  my 
own  conscience." 

"  Joan,  my  dear  heart !  We  are  but  making  and  wid 
ening  breaches.  Let  us  patiently  digest  what  we  have 
heard  until  to-morrow.  Clearer  reason  may  come  with 
another  day." 

"  Reason  !  That  is,  guessing  at  right  and  wrong.  What 
is  reason,  pray?  A  twinkling  little  light,  fooling  men  be 
tween  shade  and  shining.  I  have  a  feeling  that  I  trust 
beyond  it,  and  it  tells  me  that  Kelderby  can  be  saved 
only  by  Nathaniel  making  Anastasia  his  wife." 

"  Peace  \  and  in  God's  name  let  the  thought  go.  To 
save  stone  and  mortar  shall  we  ruin  our  son  ?  No,  Joan  ! 
If  it  come  to  the  pinch  you  will  say  '  No,'  and  stand  to  it 
firmer  than  any  one." 

The  baron's  tone  and  expression,  more  than  his  words, 
silenced  Lady  Kelder.  She  had  been  supposing  a  calam 
ity,  the  dread  of  which  lay  in  her  heart,  for  the  sake  of 
having  it  contradicted.  She  had  hoped  that  both  her 
husband  and  her  son  would  ridicule  her  fear.  It  gave 
her  a  shock  to  find  that  her  threat  was  at  once  accepted 
as  a  likelihood.  She  had  at  that  hour  no  more  courage 
to  gainsay  anything,  and  a  feeling  of  despair  invaded 
her. 


IO6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Then  that  impulse  which  makes  us  speak  of  trivial 
things  when  the  mind  is  occupied  with  some  great  affair 
led  Nathaniel  to  talk  of  additions  to  be  made  in  the  farm 
offices,  and  the  baron  gave  him  such  attention  as  he  was 
able  to  give ;  but  the  influence  of  the  circumstances  was 
inexorably  dominant,  —  their  sombre  eyes  reflected  it ; 
their  voices  had  the  weary  tones  of  those  whose  thoughts 
are  afar  off;  and  as  the  fire  burned  low,  and  the  day  came 
to  an  end,  every  word  was  toilsome,  mysterious,  weighed 
down  with  the  heaviness  of  anxious  hearts. 

Lady  Kelder  left  the  two  men  earlier  than  usual.  She 
was  glad  to  escape  to  the  more  loquacious  Jael,  to  whom, 
sooner  or  later,  she  always  unfolded  her  anxieties  and 
sorrows.  Jael  was  truly  shocked  at  the  position  in  which 
the  baron's  kindness  and  Nathaniel's  rudeness  to  the  De 
Burgs  had  placed  Kelderby.  But  though  she  had  plenty 
of  sympathy  she  had  very  little  tact  in  its  appliance. 

"  God-a-mercy  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  't  was  not  for  nothing 
that  the  moles  began  burrowing  about  the  house  New 
Year.  Secret  enemies  and  a  flitting.  I  pray  they  go 
not  all  round,  and  add  death  to  it." 

"  Jael !  Jael !  It  is  wicked  to  bottom  our  expecta 
tions  on  such  things.  How  could  a  blind  mole,  that 
sees  not  in  the  present,  foresee  the  future?"  But  the 
poor  lady  was  in  a  tremor  of  sad  confirmation,  passion 
ately  denying  what  she  tremblingly  believed. 

"  Indeed,  my  Lady,  the  dumb  animals  carry  God's 
messages  a  long  way  better  than  man ;  for,  right  or 
wrong,  man  will  add  his  own  words  to  God's  words. 
The  winged  birds  prophesy,  say  what  you  will  against 
it.  I  Ve  seen  enough  myself.  When  Pierson  had  to 
fly  to  Holland,  a  week  afore  he  left  the  rats  came  by 
hundreds  to  Pierson  Hall,  to  summons  him  out.  The 
rooks  knew  when  Squire  Fell  was  to  die.  The  sea-birds 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  JO/ 

show  the  fishers  what  the  weather  will  be,  and  where  to 
find  the  fish.  Dogs  and  horses  see  spirits.  Cocks  tell 
the  time  of  day ;  and  when  men  were  cowards  all,  one 
of  them  covered  shuffling  Peter  with  shame.  I  think 
a  deal,  my  Lady,  of  what  beasts  and  birds  know." 

"  Then  you  think  the  moles  know  that  we  are  to  leave 
Kelderby?  Oh,  Jael !  how  could  you  tell  me?  " 

"They  may  get  back  orders,  my  Lady.  I  bethink 
me  of  much  ill-luck  turned  to  prosperation.  The  sen 
tence  had  gone  out  against  Nineveh,  and  there  was  a 
free  set  by  after  it.  Many  lets  and  bars  God  puts  in 
a  down  way.  And,  my  Lady,  it  is  hard  for  ill-luck  to 
keep  foot  with  prayer." 

But  the  gift  of  prayer  is  not  always  in  our  power. 
Words  of  fear,  bearing  Heaven  a  grudge  at  the  bottom 
of  the  heart,  are  not  prayer ;  and  this  was  the  definition 
of  Lady  Kelder's  present  mood.  But  as  day  after  day 
went  by,  and  nothing  further  was  heard  of  John  de 
Burg,  Anastasia's  threats  lost  their  terror  and  their  sting. 
Every  one  in  Kelderby  began  to  regard  the  event  as 
past  and  finished,  and  cut  off  from  the  life  which  was 
now  to  go  on  as  if  it  never  had  happened.  Lady 
Kelder  again  busied  herself  in  her  still  room,  the  baron 
resumed  his  pleasant  communion  with  Nature  and  his 
books,  while  Nathaniel  began  to  wonder  if  he  might  not 
with  propriety  pay  another  visit  to  Sandys.  For  the 
thought  of  Olivia  was  with  him  night  and  day,  and 
the  space  dividing  him  from  her  was  full  of  void  and 
heartache. 

Anastasia  had  not,  however,  forgotten  them  ;  she  was 
even  contemplating  with  enjoyment  this  very  condition 
of  affairs.  "  They  think  the  evil  has  passed  by ;  "  and 
the  smile  upon  her  face  was  so  happy  that  it  might 
have  answered  the  sweetest  and  kindest  of  affections. 


108  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Hitherto  she  had  passed  for  a  gay  and  frivolous,  good- 
natured  woman.  No  one  suspected  her  of  a  capability 
for  malicious  wickedness.  But  many  bad  people  pass 
for  good  people  because  they  have  not  reached  the 
bottom  of  their  character.  Anastasia  was  herself  sur 
prised  at  her  own  persistence  of  wrath.  She  had  ex 
pected,  even  feared,  that  her  anger  would  not  serve 
her  long  enough  to  carry  out  any  plan  of  revenge.  It 
gave  her  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  to  find  that  it  had 
grown  steadily  in  will  and  intensity,  and  that  a  week's 
interval  had  only  intensified  her  hatred  and  her  thirst 
for  revenge. 

Her  delay  had  arisen  from  two  causes  :  first,  she  had 
not  been  able  to  decide  upon  the  course  likely  to  give 
the  most  trouble  to  Sandys  and  Kelderby  and  the  least 
to  herself;  secondly,  her  success,  in  any  case,  depended 
upon  her  father's  co-operation  and  sympathy,  and  she 
was  aware  that  there  was  a  time  to  ask  and  a  time 
to  forbear  asking.  In  certain  moods  Stephen  de  Burg 
would  remember  his  cousin  Kelder's  kindness,  and  in 
dignantly  repudiate  any  ungrateful  return.  In  other 
moods  he  would  regard  the  insult  offered  to  his  daugh 
ter,  not  only  as  cancelling  all  good-will  debt,  but  also 
as  an  occasion  for  passionate  retaliation ;  and  it  was  this 
mood  Anastasia  was  waiting  for. 

One  afternoon,  ten  days  after  John  de  Burg  had  re 
gained  his  freedom,  Anastasia  was  sitting  thinking  of 
him.  Captain  Bellingham  had  just  left  her,  and  Captain 
Bellingham  usually  knew  whatever  happened  in  the 
country-side.  But  though  she  had  questioned  him  skil 
fully,  he  had  given  her  no  news  which  held  the  faintest 
suspicion  of  John's  visit  to  his  home.  It  was  certain, 
then,  that  he  had  reached  the  coast  in  safety,  found  the 
waiting  boat,  and  gained  the  security  of  his  ship.  At 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  109 

that  hour  he  was  probably  hundreds  of  miles  away  from 
his  enemies.  As  for  John  de  Burg,  she  was  the  only 
soul  that  had  knowingly  seen  him.  She  laughed  merrily 
to  herself  at  the  idea  which  suddenly  flowed  to  her  from 
this  circumstance.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  found 
the  clew  to  a  vengeance  worthy  of  the  wrong. 

Her  father  entered  in  the  midst  of  her  private  mirth. 
He  was  in  an  equally  jocund  mood,  having  got  the  bet 
ter  of  "  some  canting  Roundheads  "  who  required  taxes 
of  him.  "  But  I  showed  them  that  I  was  only  a  lodger 
at  De  Burg,  being  there  at  the  pleasure  of  their  Com 
monwealth  ;  and  therein  Sir  John  Freemantle  said  I 
was  right,  and  so  on.  Then  comes  Mr.  Allen,  and  he 
thinks  the  taxes  should  be  collected  of  my  security ;  and 
some  fell  a-laughing  at  the  proposition,  and  some  for- 
soothed  it ;  but  Sir  John  stood  bravely  by  me,  and  the 
case  will  stand  finely.  A  pleasant  day,  Asia,  and  all 
things  else." 

"  I  am  extremely  glad  on  it ;  "  and  she  touched  the 
strings  of  her  lute  lightly  and  sang,  — 

"  Lay  by  your  pleading, 
Love  lies  a-bleading ; 
Burn  all  your  poetry, 
And  throw  away  your  reading. 
Piety  is  painted, 
Truth  it  is  tainted, 
Love  is  called  a  reprobate, 
And  Schism  now  is  sainted." 

The  bright  June  sunshine  was  all  over  her,  giving  to 
the  brilliant  colours  of  her  silk  gown  the  prismatic  rays 
of  the  peacock's  feathers.  Her  black  hair  fell  curling 
over  her  shoulders  and  upon  her  warm,  white  neck  and 
bosom,  and  her  hands  sparkled  with  coloured  gems  as 
they  twinkled  among  the  strings.  She  was  the  loveliest 


HO  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

realization  of  a  gay  and  brilliant  woman,  formed  for  the 
delight  of  the  senses  and  the  enchantment  of  thought 
less  men. 

De  Burg  watched  her  with  pride  and  pleasant  specu 
lation,  and  she  divined  his  thoughts ;  for  she  suddenly 
snapped  the  song  in  two,  and  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  Let 
me  tell  you  the  secret  of  Sir  John's  complaisance,  —  the 
king  comes  soon  to  his  own  again." 

He  opened  his  eyes  wide  and  flashed  their  intelli 
gence  into  hers ;  and  she  nodded  back  a  charming 
assurance  ere  she  continued,  "  There  's  a  feel  in  the 
air,  a  whisper  in  the  wind,  a  bird  in  my  breast,  that 
tells  me  so ;  and,  besides,  a  word  from  London  that 
confirms  all." 

"  Old  Noll  hath  caught  an  ague." 

"He  hath  caught  death." 

"Well,  then?" 

"If  we  would  have  the  full  pay  of  our  loyalty,  you 
know,  we  must  go  to  the  king.  In  the  day  of  rewards 
those  who  have  done  so  will  be  remembered.  As  for 
the  general  mass  who  wait  for  him  to  come  to  them, 
they  cannot  expect  any  honour  in  particular.  Faith, 
sir  !  before  a  year  be  gone,  I  warrant  you,  men  and 
women  will  be  drinking  the  king's  health  upon  their 
knees  in  the  market-places  and  on  the  house-tops." 

"Well,  then?" 

"Go  to  the  king." 

"  My  cousin  Kelder  would  have  just  cause  to  com 
plain  of  me." 

"  We  owe  nothing  but  hatred  and  ill-will  to  cousin 
Kelder,  and  with  your  good  help  I  will  pay  it." 

"What  mean  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  deadly  mad  at  them  !  "  Then  she  laid 
down  her  lute,  and  carried  a  chair  to  her  father's  side. 


SORKO W  HA TH  MANY  FEE T.  Ill 

"You  must  know,  sir,  that  when  I  was  but  a  maid  in 
ankle-shoes  Nathaniel  made  love  to  me  and  vowed 
me  his  hand." 

"  Pray,  what  did  you  want  with  the  sour  Puritan?  " 

"  Indeed,  that  is  one  of  the  miracles.  But  now  he 
wants  not  me.  He  hath  fallen  into  the  toils  of  the 
Quaker  girl  at  Sandys." 

"  I  have  seen  her.  A  month  ago  I  met  her  with 
D'Acre's  wife  ;  a  pretty  pair  of  sucking  doves,  truly  !  " 

She  laughed  and  clapped  her  sparkling  hands  together. 

"  Sucking  doves  !  Marry,  sir  !  Prideaux's  girl  hath 
the  temper  of  a  wild-cat.  She  ordered  me  out  of  her 
presence." 

"  Surely  you  joke,  Asia ;  and  't  is  a  poor  subject  for 
your  mirth." 

"  Never  trust  me  if  I  speak  not  the  truth.  I  called 
at  Sandys  for  a  purpose." 

"For  what  purpose?"  He  asked  the  question  per 
emptorily  ;  for,  like  not  a  few  men  of  small  stature,  he 
not  only  was  easily  made  angry,  but  was  rancorous 
when  he  had  a  grievance  to  avenge.  "  Pray,  what  pur 
pose  had  you  at  the  Quaker's  house?" 

She  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face  and  said,  "  I  went 
to  see  Harald  Sandys." 

"What  foolery  is  this?  Harald  Sandys  was  killed 
with  his  cousin  at  Marston  battle." 

"  My  Harald  Sandys  is,  I  hope,  now  so  far  out  at  sea 
as  to  be  beyond  his  enemies." 

All  mirth  had  vanished  out  of  her  face.  She  was  in 
a  mood  which  demanded  attention  as  she  continued, 
"  Be  so  good  as  to  listen  to  me.  For  your  sake,  't  is 
all  I  shall  ask,  sir. 

"  Put  it  in  the  number  of  my  sins  that  I  kept  secretly 
for  many  weeks  under  your  roof  this  gentleman,  —  a 


112  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

fact  that  you  will  be  best  to  forget,  since  it  concerns 
you  not,  and  is  beyond  your  advantage.  But  presently, 
when  there  was  like  to  be  suspicion,  I  sent  him  to  Roger 
Prideaux ;  for  he  hath  an  affectation  of  great  kindness 
for  the  old  owners  of  the  house  he  bought." 

"  The  rogue  fancies  that  dingy  guineas,  made  in  some 
sort  of  mechanical  work,  can  buy  a  right  to  an  old  estate 
like  Sandys,  I  had  looked  to  add  it  to  De  Burg,  as 
was  most  natural.  For  only  Bellingham  lies  between 
us,  and  there  is  so  much  of  ancient  intermarriage  as 
would  justify  the  king  in  making  me  heir  where  there 
is  no  other  heir.  Oh  !  I  would  have  taken  Sandys  in 
payment  of  all  scores  against  him ;  and  then  if  it  had 
come  into  your  mind  to  marry  Bellingham,  there  would 
have  been  an  estate  worthy  of  an  earldom." 

"  I  wonder  not  that  you  have  ever  been  against  this 
Quaker." 

"  Nothing  moves  me  to  anger  like  his  name." 

"  All  goes  well,  then ;  for  now  you  have  a  good  occa 
sion  to  work  Sandys  out  of  an  owner  again.  The 
Quaker  hath  doubtless  been  harbouring  a  malignant, 
whom  he  knew  to  be  on  the  king's  business." 

"  Make  me  wiser  on  the  whole  matter." 

"  'Twas  on  the  2gth  of  last  month.  I  went  out,  as  I 
commonly  do,  to  ride.  I  took  the  way  to  Sandys,  and  at 
the  gates  I  bethought  me  of  the  civility  of  making  a  call 
upon  the  strange  lady  there.  Being  come  to  the  en 
trance,  a  cross  old  man  withstood  me  at  all  points,  and 
with  many  excuses ;  but  having  determined  to  gratify 
my  curiosity,  I  would  not  be  restrained,  and,  with  such 
apologies  as  left  him  far  behind,  I  went  to  the  parlour. 
There  I  found  Mistress  Prideaux  and  Nathaniel  Kelder, 
and  a  man  whom  Mistress  Prideaux,  with  much  discom 
posure,  introduced  to  me  as  Harald  Sandys,  '  there  being 


SOKRO  W  HA  TH  MANY  FEE  T.  113 

nothing  to  fear,'  she  said,  '  from  one  of  my  affection  for 
the  king.'" 

"  Come,  this  grows  hugely.  Nathaniel  is  in  the  plot, 
then?" 

"  So  much  belongs  to  the  public  ear.  For  your  own 
there  is  much  more,  if  you  care  to  listen." 

"  Oh,  I  will  hear  to  the  last  comma." 

"  Nathaniel  was  so  much  annoyed  at  my  visit  that  he 
was  hard  set  to  give  me  the  commonest  courtesy ;  and 
when  Mistress  Prideaux  went  for  a  glass  of  wine  for  my 
refreshment,  he  took  the  opportunity  to  insult  me  beyond 
all  patience  or  endurance." 

"The  grounds?  " 

"  I  had  mentioned  a  ship  lying  off  the  coast,  supposed 
to  be  there  for  certain  of  his  Majesty's  friends,  and  he 
turned  on  Sandys  and  called  him  John  de  Burg,  —  order 
ing  both  him  and  me  to  leave  at  the  moment.  He  said, 
moreover,  that  I  was  unfit  and  unworthy  to  sit  in  the 
same  room  or  to  eat  in  the  presence  of  Mistress  Pri 
deaux,  and  he  bid  me  depart  in  such  a  way  as  left  me 
for  the  moment  at  his  word,  seeing  that  I  would  not,  for 
my  own  sake,  prejudice  the  escape  of  the  young  man. 
But  I  went  back." 

"  Oh  !  you  went  back?  " 

"  And  I  found  her  alone." 

De  Burg  laughed  uproariously.  "  Did  you  take  her 
eyes  out?  " 

"  I  promise  you  I  am  nothing  in  her  debt." 

The  whole  plot  was  as  clear  as  daylight  to  De  Burg ; 
but  there  are  none  so  blind  as  those  who  will  not  see, 
and  clearness  of  sight  in  this  direction  was  neither  to  his 
interest  nor  to  his  pleasure.  He  looked  with  something 
of  pity  and  something  of  admiration  at  the  sullenly  hand 
some  face  of  his  daughter.  He  saw  that  her  anger 

8 


114  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

burned  like  a  fire,  and  was  likely  to  grow  with  the 
thoughts  it  fed  on.  For  though  mortified  feeling  turns 
to  ridicule  in  cold  natures,  it  turns  to  bitter  hatred  in 
passionate  ones ;  and  hatred,  however  it  may  punish 
others,  is  self-punishment  of  the  severest  kind. 

He  rose  and  walked  thoughtfully  about  the  room. 
Anastasia  sat  in  the  gloomy  stillness  of  a  soul  stumbling 
from  thought  to  thought  of  angry  love.  For  when  she 
began  to  hate  Nathaniel,  then  she  found  out  her  love  by 
her  hate.  She  could  not  forget  his  severe,  youthful 
beauty  as  he  watched  with  gathering  wrath  the  unfolding 
of  her  guilty  plot,  and  his  grave  rebuke  added  to  it  an 
invincible  grace.  Her  soul  was  tossed,  as  in  a  hurricane, 
with  scorn,  anger,  mortified  love,  and  a  burning  longing 
for  revenge. 

"  Asia  !  " 

"  Sir." 

"  What  was,  and  is  not,  may  be  as  if  it  never  had  been. 
And  of  what  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak  we  will  speak  no 
more.  This  event  begins  with  your  visit  to  Mistress 
Prideaux.  Do  you  understand?" 

"  This  moment.     I  have  forgot  everything  before  it." 

"  In  all  cases,  and  to  every  one,  are  you  prepared  to 
stand  to  that  condition?" 

"  I  '11  swear  to  it." 

"  Other  affairs  fit  into  this  one  with  a  strange  evidence. 
'T  is  well  known  the  Quakers  have  made  many  remon 
strances  to  the  Pro  —  I  mean  to  Old  Noll,  praying  for 
more  justice  than  he  gives  them ;  and  also  that  they  are 
dissatisfied  and  disquieted  at  his  indifference  to  their 
complaints.  'T  is  likewise  well  known  that  the  king  has 
been  in  communication  with  leading  men  of  all  parties 
and  all  creeds,  sending  them  promises  of  liberty  in  all 
matters  of  conscience.  We  may  suppose  —  we  have  a 


SORROW  HATH  MANY  FEET.  115 

right  to  suppose  —  that  Harald  Sandys's  visit  to  Roger 
Prideaux  was  as  the  king's  emissary  to  the  Quakers, 
Prideaux  being  a  man  of  wealth  and  weight  among  them. 
And  Old  Noll's  sickness  has  brought  every  one  to  a  con 
sideration  of  what  is  to  come  when  he  goes  to  the  devil. 
•The  eye  of  a  Kendal  magistrate  will  see  a  great  matter 
of  treason  in  this  affair,  I  '11  warrant  it." 

"But  Nathaniel  —  is  he  to  go  free?  I  wish  him  to 
suffer,  and  this  is  nothing  toward  it." 

"  You  have  a  woman's  trick  of  seeing  only  one  thing 
at  a  time.  Does  your  mind  live  in  a  lane  ?  Nathaniel 
shall  suffer  on  every  hand  and  in  every  person.  But  I 
foresee  in  this  affair  the  conclusion  of  much  and  the  be 
ginning  of  more.  The  king  must  not  come  home  before 
we  go  to  the  king.  We  have  lost  too  much  to  lose  the 
claim  which  entry  with  him  will  guarantee.  Prepare, 
then,  for  such  a  visit  by  giving  your  beauty  the  advance 
ment  of  a  flashing  bravery  of  dress,  for  there  is  nothing 
like  making  a  show  of  gentry  in  his  presently  shabby 
court.  Thank  your  stars  that  I  take  this  matter  out  of 
your  hands ;  for  it  will  require  to  take  both  wisdom  and 
patience  with  it." 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  neither  wish  nor  need  for  a  better  stand-by. 
I  can  leave  all  in  your  care,  with  great  contentment." 

"  And  I  swear  you  satisfaction.  Faith  !  in  these  dull 
days  of  discontent  it  will  be  a  great  delight  to  me  to  turn 
things  a  little  upside  down  ;  and  as  I  owe  you  something 
for  the  pleasure,  you  shall  have  my  Lady  Levin's  Iceland 
dog.  I  am  advised  that  it  is  for  sale." 

Half  an  hour  afterward  Anastasia  heard  her  father 
ride  away  toward  Kendal.  She  was  not  afraid,  she  was 
not  sorry,  for  the  thing  she  had  done.  She  went  up 
stairs,  washed,  dressed,  and  perfumed  herself;  but  in  all 
her  sweet  coffers  there  was  no  wash  or  unguent  for  her 


Il6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

restless  soul.  Reckless  and  contradictious,  sick  with 
a  vague  trouble  which  she  would  neither  face  nor 
acknowledge,  she  muttered  defiantly, —  • 

"  Well,  I  have  set  the  ball  rolling.     Where  it  will  go, 
and  when  it  will  stop,  the  Devil  only  knows  ! " 


VII. 

DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE. 
"  Find  me  a  reasonable  lover  against  his  weight  in  gold." 

"  Upon  my  word,  this  day  certainly  has  turned  out  both  perverse  and 
adverse." 

"  If  a  woman  has  any  malicious  mischief  to  do,  in  that  case  her  memory 
is  immortal  in  remembering  it." 

"  To  do  good  to  the  bad  is  a  danger  just  as  great  as  to  do  bad  to  the 
good." 

'  I  "'HE  day  after  this  event  Nathaniel  made  a  visit  to 
•*•  Sandys.  It  was  now  summer,  but  he  remembered 
so  well  the  early  spring,  when  Olivia  Prideaux  had  come 
to  him  as  the  living  breath  and  spirit  of  the  time.  No 
one  notices  the  seasons  like  a  lover.  As  they  balance 
their  flight  on  the  swift  wings  of  night  and  day  he  makes 
all  their  changes  and  events  a  sweet  calendar  of  his  hopes 
and  fears.  For  him  there  is  then  a  mystery  in  the  air, 
filling  it  with  a  strange  sensitiveness;  the  sunshine  is 
something  more  than  the  light  of  common  day ;  the  lin 
net's  sweet  babbling,  the  humid  flash  of  the  trickling 
stream,  the  white  butterfly's  rhythmic  measures,  the  still 
ness  of  the  summer  noon,  the  snow-clad  hills  of  winter, 
—  every  fair  thing  in  the  earth  below,  or  the  firmament 
above,  is  but  a  fresh  spelling  of  the  beloved  one's  name 
and  excellences. 

Nathaniel  found  Sandys  open  to  the  sunlight  and  per 
fume  of  the  garden.     Roger  sat  at  his  desk,  but  the  desk 


Il8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

was  so  close  to  the  lifted  window  that  the  roses  almost 
touched  his  face  and  hands  ;  and  the  birds,  twittering  se 
crets  in  the  ivy  above  them,  might  as  well  have  been  in 
the  room.  He  was  counting  moneys  and  casting  up  ex 
penses,  doing  the  business  with  methodical  thorough 
ness,  yet  not  insensible  to  the  sweeter  and  fairer  things 
around  him. 

He  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  young  man,  and  they  had  a 
welcome  in  them.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  thee,  Nathaniel ; 
thy  last  visit  was  such  as  might  have  asked  another  ere 
this." 

"  I  like  not  to  talk  over  evil  which  is  past ;  let  us  not 
speak  of  the  man  who  troubled  you.  He  is  gone." 

"  I  know  not ;  the  great  events  of  life  are  always  sur 
prises,  Nathaniel." 

"  Surprises  are  what  Mr.  Baxter  calls  *  godsends  ; '  and 
seeming  good  or  seeming  ill,  they  are  still  '  godsends '  and 
not  to  be  mistrusted." 

"  True ;  all  things  are  done  well  in  the  ordering  of 
unerring  wisdom ;  and  God's  ancient  promise,  '  As  thy 
days  so  shall  thy  strength  be,'  fits  every  occasion,  joyful 
or  sorrowful.  Yet  I  confess  to  thee  that  I  have  a  strange 
necessity  upon  me  in  regard  to  my  affairs.  I  have  had 
warnings  to  set  my  house  in  order,  —  yea,  I  have  cause  to 
believe  that  there  is  some  great  change  coming,  and  this 
apprehension  of  duty  has  been  on  me  for  some  time ; 
but  I  leave  all  to  God,  and  in  this  feeling  I  centre  my 
soul." 

"  Roger,  will  you  give  me  Olivia  for  my  wife  ?  I  love 
her  with  my  whole  heart." 

"  There  is  but  one  holdback  in  my  mind ;  thou  hast 
not  yet  joined  the  cause  of  truth,  Nathaniel." 

"  I  have  not  yet  felt  clear  to  do  so,  Roger,  and  without 
this  assurance  —  " 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  1 19 

"  Stand  still.  No  man  can  by  searching  find  out  God  ; 
only  be  willing  and  he  will  find  out  thee.  Yet  I  think 
surely  thou  art  not  far  from  the  kingdom ;  and  in  the 
matter  of  Olivia,  speak  to  her ;  she  shall  lead  us  both." 

Then  with  a  heavy  heart  he  dropped  his  head  over  his 
book  and  resumed  his  calculations.  He  could  ask  no 
better  husband  for  his  daughter,  and  personally  Nathaniel 
was  very  pleasant  to  him ;  yet  he  sighed  heavily,  and  the 
pang  of  renunciation  was  exceeding  bitter.  This  is  the 
way  with  all  earthly  desires  granted,  —  always  the  some 
thing  lacking,  always  the  something  taken ;  and  though 
Roger  was  well  pleased  that  Olivia  should  be  Nathaniel's 
wife,  he  could  not  contemplate  without  heartache  the 
days  which  had  been  and  which  soon  might  be  no 
more,  —  the  sweet,  calm,  loving  days  wherein  he  had 
been  everything  to  his  child,  her  father,  mother,  lover, 
and  friend ;  but  he  said  nothing  of  his  own  loss,  and 
Nathaniel  stopped  not  to  consider  it. 

"Where  is  Olivia?"  he  asked  with  trembling  eager 
ness  ;  and  the  pathos  of  the  father's  voice  and  attitude 
was  lost  in  the  simple  satisfaction  of  his  reply,  — 

"  An  hour  ago  she  went  into  the  garden." 

It  was  an  old-fashioned  garden  full  of  turning  walks 
hedged  high  and  close  with  privet  and  hazel  bushes. 
Narrow  beds  bordered  with  box  ran  under  the  hedges, 
holding  all  the  sweet  fragile  blossoms  that  love  not  the 
hot  sunshine.  In  an  angle  of  one  turning  there  was  an 
arbour  cut  in  the  thick  green  wall  of  privet,  and  there 
Nathaniel  knew  he  would  be  most  likely  to  find  Olivia. 

He  had  a  rapid,  decided  step,  and  doubtless  she  heard 
him  coining,  yet  she  kept  her  eyes  dropped  upon  the  ex 
quisitely  small  stitches  she  was  sewing.  She  was  dressed 
in  white,  but  the  sunshine  sifting  through  the  green  roof 
»f  the  arbour  threw  over  the  spotless  lawn  indescribable 


I2O  FRIEND    OLIVIA. 

rays  of  palest  green  shot  with  gold,  melting  into  each 
other,  changing,  passing  away,  like  the  tints  of  the  sky  at 
evening.  A  large,  handsome  cat  slept  at  her  feet,  but  it 
in  no  way  detracted  from  the  peace  and  freshness  and 
sweetness  of  the  living  picture. 

" '  My  love,  my  dove,  my  undefiled  ! ' '  This  strain  of 
the  sacred  canticle  came  into  his  heart,  and  tasted  sweet 
upon  his  lips.  He  said  it  over  and  over  as  he  ap 
proached  the  girl,  and  perhaps  in  some  mysterious  way 
she  felt  the  influence  of  the  winged  though  voiceless 
words,  for  her  face  was  covered  with  a  rosy  light,  and  her 
eyes  were  so  full  of  her  soul  that  the  radiance  from  under 
the  dropped  lids  left  a  glow  upon  her  cheeks. 

He  had  purposed  to  say  many  things  in  preparation  of 
"  the  words ;  "  but  when  the  heart  is  ready  to  speak  it 
needs  no  introduction,  and  before  he  was  aware  he  had 
said  them.  He  took  the  work  from  her  hands  and 
clasped  her  hands  in  his  own ;  he  drew  her  close  to  his 
side,  and  told  the  heavenly  story  of  a  heart  which  has 
found  the  soul  it  loves.  The  low  words,  the  embrace,  the 
kiss  that  spoke  where  all  words  failed,  went  to  Olivia's 
heart  as  the  sunshine  to  the  heart  of  a  flower,  or  the 
sweet,  soft  rain  to  its  root.  In  that  hour  Nathaniel  re 
vealed  her  to  herself;  he  interpreted  the  unknown  lan 
guage  of  her  wistful  longings ;  he  claimed  her  by  some 
inexplicable  but  indisputable  right  for  his  own,  and  with 
shy,  trembling  happiness  she  acknowledged  the  claim. 
So  for  a  little  while  these  two  blissful  mortals  found  their 
lost  Eden. 

But  it  is  in  such  hours  that  we  all  realize  how  impotent 
is  the  language  of  earth.  Though  moved  to  more  than 
earthly  rapture,  they  had  nothing  to  say  worthy  of  their 
emotion.  Foolish  as  the  babbling  of  babies  is  the  talk  of 
lovers,  but  it  is  a  folly  springing  from  a  divine  depth,  -— 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  121 

a  depth  which  no  plummet  of  wisdom  has  sounded.  The 
oft-repeated  words,  the  words  half-spoken,  the  questions 
asked  with  a  look,  the  questions  answered  with  a  kiss,  the 
vague,  glancing,  broken  language  of  lovers  !  —  is  it  not  as 
eloquent  and  as  wise  in  its  foolishness  as  that  sweet  baby 
prattle  which  between  a  mother  and  her  child  is  wiser 
than  all  wise  words?  Never  till  the  soul  is  free  from 
fleshly  bonds  shall  we  tell  the  beloved  how  truly  we  love. 
Never  on  earth  shall  we  speak  perfectly  the  language  of 
heaven.  We  can  but  stammer  and  blunder,  or  ask  from 
silence  the  pathetic  interpretation  of  our  mute  souls. 
For  the  words  we  learned  before  we  fell  a  little  lower 
than  the  angels  call  to  us  in  vain,  —  our  tongues  are  tied  ; 
and  though  we  strive  to  syllable  the  memory,  we  find, 
alas,  that  there  is  no  common  speech  for  the  body  and 
the  soul !  Language  fails  when  we  need  it  most. 

But  whether  in  speech  or  in  sweeter  silence  the  after 
noon  sped  on.  The  sun  sunk  lower  and  lower,  and  with 
slow  steps  the  lovers  began  to  tread  the  flowery  lane. 
Nathaniel  pulled  some  violets  and  put  them  into  Olivia's 
girdle.  It  seemed  to  him  a  wonderful  thing  to  do ;  a 
week  ago  he  only  dreamed  of  such  delight.  A  little 
farther  on  they  came  to  the  open  garden,  where  the  per 
fume  of  raspberries  and  the  double  velvet-roses  mingled, 
and  the  warm  light  wind  brought  them  a  caress  of  scent, 
—  the  soul  of  a  red  bergamot  flower,  —  and  the  clove 
carnations  filled  the  air  with  their  inthralling  odours. 
They  forgot  that  they  were  mortal,  since  as  yet  no 
thought  or  care  for  the  future  came  with  anxious  whisper 
between  them. 

Nathaniel  had  fully  determined  not  to  speak  of  John 
and  Anastasia  de  Burg.  In  his  heart  there  lay  that  sin 
gular  superstition  which  at  some  time  or  other  has  influ 
enced  the  most  pious  and  logical  minds,  —  a  feeling  that 


122  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

it  would  be  wise  not  to  name  the  evil  dreaded  lest  they 
might  call  it  unto  them.  Yet  in  defiance  of  this  resolu 
tion,  in  a  moment,  without  intent,  he  broke  it.  A  sudden 
chill  and  silence  followed  the  ill-omened  words,  and  his 
heart  instantly  reproached  his  tongue  for  them. 

Everything  changed  in  a  moment;  the  hour  of  en 
chantment  was  over,  and  they  were  summoned  back  to 
common  life  by  a  shrill,  weak  voice  calling  at  its  highest 
pitch,  — 

"Olivia!  Olivia!" 

The  two  words  were  full  of  anger,  of  terror,  of  some 
nameless  dread,  which  the  girl  felt  without  understanding. 
She  looked  with  fearful  inquiry  at  Nathaniel,  and  drop 
ping  his  hand  hurried  to  the  house  by  the  nearest 
path. 

It  was  Asa  calling  her,  but  his  voice  was  so  changed 
that  she  did  not  know  it  until  she  saw  him  standing  in  the 
open  door.  Without  a  word  he  went  before  the  lovers 
into  the  parlour.  Two  strange  men  were  there,  and  Roger 
Prideaux  stood  between  them  with  irons  on  his  wrists. 

Olivia  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment.  She  kissed  his 
bound  hands,  and  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
comforted  him  with  that  sweet  love  which,  without  say 
ing  "  What  is  the  trouble?  "  thinks  only  of  consoling  it. 
It  was  Nathaniel  who  made  the  inquiry.  With  his  hand 
on  Roger's  shoulder  he  asked,  — 

"Under  what  warrant  do  you  serve  an  honourable 
man  so  hardly?  " 

"  High  treason,  Captain,  and  no  less." 

"  Nathaniel,  my  son,  neither  make  nor  meddle  in  this 
business.  I  have  a  narrow  path  to  pass  through ;  but 
One  goes  with  me  able  to  deliver." 

"  My  father,  trust  in  him  !  " 

"  '  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him.'     Turn 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  123 

thee,  dear  child,  to  Romans,  eighth  chapter  and  twenty- 
eighth  verse.  There  I  found,  not  ten  minutes  ago, 
God's  grand  charter  of  help  sufficient.  I  was  reading 
it  as  the  officers  crossed  my  threshold,  and  the  page 
shone  with  the  glory  of  the  promise." 

Upon  this  scene  the  men  not  unkindly  turned  their 
backs,  and  Asa  served  them  with  a  flagon  of  ale  and 
some  meat  and  bread. 

"Nathaniel!  thou  wilt  care  for  Olivia?" 

"With  my  life." 

"  My  dear  heart,  I  give  thee  to  Nathaniel ;  for  I  go 
I  know  not  where,  nor  for  what  time.  Yet  if  it  stand 
with  God's  will,  I  shall  surely  come  back  to  this  pleasant 
home  ;  and  if  it  stand  not  so,  —  his  will  be  done."  He 
looked  wistfully  round  the  room  and  into  the  garden, 
and  then  bent  his  head  and  kissed  the  sweet  white  face 
that  lay  upon  his  breast. 

"  Neighbours,  I  am  ready.  There  is  a  long  walk  to 
Kendal,  and  delay  at  this  hour  can  do  no  good." 

There  had  been  no  outcry,  no  clamorous  grief.  The 
thing  they  had  feared  had  happened  to  them,  but  they 
were  prepared  to  receive  it.  Roger  had  not  only  set 
his  house  in  order,  he  had  also  made  Olivia  conversant 
with  all  his  affairs.  So  they  said  farewell  with  the  noble 
calmness  of  pious  souls ;  for  piety  is  self-government 
in  its  highest  form.  Olivia  pressed  her  white  cheek 
against  her  father's,  showing  him  eyes  full  of  holy  hope 
and  trust.  She  touched  his  lips  with  lips  wearing  the 
calm  smile  of  a  soul  trusting  in  the  Omnipotent. 

She  went  with  him  to  the  door,  Nathaniel  and  Asa 
keeping,  with  a  natural  modesty,  a  little  behind  her ;  for 
the  nearness  of  her  grief  gave  her  a  sad  pre-eminence. 
She  stepped  outside  the  threshold  on  to  the  wide  flags 
which  made  a  central  path  through  the  garden  to  the 


124  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

park.  On  each  side  banks  of  roses  filled  the  senses  with 
their  colour  and  scent.  A  laburnum-tree  dropped  its 
golden  racemes  above  her  head,  and  the  westering  sun 
made  the  broad,  tranquil  atmosphere  look  as  if  it  were 
rilled  with  gold-dust. 

She  stood  in  it,  a  slight  white-robed  figure,  tearless 
and  speechless,  but  revealing  in  her  face  and  attitude 
feelings  inexpressible,  —  unless  it  were  possible  to  com 
pass  that  vast,  enigmatical  language  which  comes  in 
dreams.  A  calamitous  constraint  of  circumstances,  a 
strict  necessity,  was  subduing  her ;  but  she  resented 
sorrow,  as  youth  must  ever  do.  She  knew  that  Anastasia 
was  triumphing  over  her.  If  the  blow  had  come  from 
the  blind  prejudices  of  the  civil  power,  she  could  have 
borne  it  better.  She  felt  it  hard  that  her  father  should 
have  to  go  to  prison  for  the  crimes  of  John  de  Burg  and 
the  wicked  jealousy  of  his  sister.  Hardest  of  all  was  the 
thought  that  God  had  permitted  'Anastasia  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  their  happy  home  and  bring  misery  and 
ruin  with  her.  Quiet  as  Olivia  seemed  to  be,  a  great 
storm  tossed  her  innocent  soul.  She  wanted  to  be 
alone,  to  weep,  to  cry  out,  "  My  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  us?" 

But  she  had  that  in  her  which  rung  well  to  the  striker. 
Though  every  footstep  on  the  flagged  walk  was  like  a 
blow  on  her  heart,  it  was  a  blow  that  stirred  her  into 
keener  life.  She  whispered  obedience,  and  with  head 
inclined,  inclined  her  heart. 

Standing  thus,  she  watched  her  father  pass  out  of  her 
sight.  He  walked  like  a  man  who  had  put  the  world 
away  from  him,  who  held  it  as  indifferently  as  if  it  were 
a  cast-off  shoe.  The  irons  on  his  wrists  were  unfelt ; 
the  road  seemed  to  go  upward  to  heaven.  Holy  men 
of  all  ages  were  on  it  with  him.  He  saw  with  Stephen, 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  12$ 

he  heard  with  Paul,  he  communed  with  God,  and  had 
such  comfort  and  strength  as  this  world  knows  nothing 
of.  And  at  this  hour  Roger  Prideaux,  though  small  in 
stature,  looked  truly  noble.  The  officers  instinctively 
fell  behind  him  a  few  steps.  They  declared  afterward 
that  his  face  shone,  and  that  they  feared  to  be  with  him. 

Presently  the  great  trees  hid  all  of  them  from  sight. 
Then  Olivia  turned  her  eyes  upon  Nathaniel,  —  eyes  soft 
shining  through  a  haze  of  unshed  tears.  He  raised  her 
hand  and  kissed  it,  leading  her  with  tender,  comforting 
words  into  the  lonely  parlour.  For  a  few  minutes  she 
yielded  to  herself,  to  her  human  need  of  sympathy,  to 
her  woman's  need  of  love  and  strength ;  but  soon  the 
primitive  courage  of  her  soul  rose  above  its  weakness. 
She  withdrew  from  Nathaniel's  embrace ;  she  stood  up 
right  and  looked  around,  like  one  who  is  gathering  force 
from  every  quarter. 

"  Asa ! " 

"  I  am  here,  Olivia." 

"  Thou  must  tell  Gideon  to  saddle  a  fleet  horse.  He 
is  to  go  to  my  aunt  Hannah  Mettelane,  who  lives  at 
Ambleside,  and  tell  her  that  'the  time  spoken  of  has 
come.' " 

"Thou  art  sure  thou  art  doing  right?" 

"  It  is  the  word  of  my  father,  Asa.     As  to  thyself,  —  " 

"  I  am  ready  to  do  to  the  utmost." 

"Then  put  up  some  changes  of  clothing  for  my  fa 
ther  ;  thou  knowest  all  he  will  want.  Surely  thou  wilt 
stay  close  to  him,  Asa?  "  And  she  went  to  the  old  man, 
and  took  his  hands  in  hers.  Their  eyes  met,  and  he 
gave  her  an  inviolable  promise. 

"  He  will  miss  thee  at  every  turn.  Be  hands  and  feet 
to  him.  Be  a  friend  to  him,  Asa.  He  hath  been  one 
to  thee,  and  now  there  will  be  many  against  him." 


126  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  I  will  go  to  thy  father.  I  will  never  leave  him 
so  long  as  he  is  in  trouble.  And  take  courage,  Olivia : 
in  a  deluge,  God's  children  never  miss  the  ark." 

"  God  give  thee  a  good  reward,  Asa."  Then  she 
turned  to  her  lover.  "  Nathaniel,  I  must  go  to  D'Acre 
Hall  at  once.  My  father  has  a  right  to  think  that 
Edward  D'Acre  will  prepare  such  bail  as  may  be  wanted, 
if  it  come  to  a  question  of  bail.  He  left  a  letter  on  the 
subject,  which  I  must  deliver." 

"  I  will  take  it  for  you,  dear  Olivia." 

"  Nay,  my  father  will  not  have  thee  meddle  in  this 
matter.  Also,  I  have  a  message  which  is  to  be  given,  or 
not  given,  in  my  own  discretion." 

"  Until  your  aunt  arrives,  or  so  long  as  you  desire  it, 
I  shall  look  for  you  to  stay  with  my  mother.  If  I  take 
you  to  D'Acre  to-night,  you  can  rest  there,  and  so  come 
t>n  to  Kelderby  to-morrow." 

"  Jane  D'Acre  is  my  friend.  To  get  security  is  not 
a  thing  of '  ask  and  have.'  I  may  be  required  at  D'Acre 
for  more  than  one  day,  and  I  think  surely  that  Hannah 
Mettelane  will  come  with  all  possible  speed.  Also,  dear 
Nathaniel,  thy  mother  might  not  desire  my  presence. 
I  must  be  certified  of  her  good-will  ere  I  put  so  great 
a  demand  upon  it." 

"  My  beloved  !  are  you  not  as  my  wife  ?  Is  not  my 
home  your  home?" 

"  In  so  far  as  thou  canst  give  it.  But  thou  must  not 
trespass  on  the  rights  of  thy  father  and  mother,  nor 
must  thou  lead  me  into  so  great  a  snare.  Jane  D'Acre 
is  my  friend ;  I  will  go  to  her."  She  spoke  with  a  not 
unsuitable  maidenly  pride,  feeling  that  it  was  Lady 
Kelder's  place  to  give  her  first  some  unmistakable  evi 
dence  of  love  and  welcome. 

Nathaniel   was   full  of  sorrowful  and   wounded   per- 


DE  BURCS  FIRST  MOVE.  I2/ 

plexity.  He  knew  well  how  unwelcome  Olivia  would 
be  at  Kelderby.  If  he  took  her  there,  a  kind  of  civility 
would  not  indeed  be  denied  her.  The  baron  would  be 
gravely  courteous,  and  Olivia  would  doubtless  soon  win 
from  him  a  warmer  feeling ;  but  Lady  Kelder  would  be 
more  unreasonable.  She  would  probably  retire  into  her 
own  room  and  refuse  to  see  Olivia ;  or,  if  more  aggres 
sively  inclined,  Nathaniel  understood  in  how  many  ways 
women  can  wound  women  (smiling  as  they  do  it),  say 
ing  cruel  things  that  defy  answer  or  reproof,  —  insinuat 
ing  wounds,  which  the  victim  can  only  bear  in  silence 
and  hide  from  every  eye. 

He  walked  restlessly  about  the  room,  miserably  con 
scious  of  his  inability  to  give  the  girl  he  so  passionately 
loved  the  shelter  and  help  he  longed  to  give  her.  She 
passed  in  and  out  frequently,  as  she  made  with  Asa  the 
preparations  necessary  for  her  father's  comfort  and  the 
security  of  the  house.  But  Asa  was  both  by  nature  and 
education  deliberate  in  all  his  movements,  and  he  con 
sidered  the  present  circumstances  demanded,  not  less, 
but  more,  than  his  usual  careful  attention ;  there  were 
presses  and  cellars  and  awmries  to  lock,  servants  to  in 
struct,  Olivia's  special  charges  to  provide  for,  —  so  many 
little  things  to  direct,  that  it  was  after  sunset  before 
she  was  able  to  leave  Sandys  for  D'Acre  Hall. 

She  made  no  complaint  about  it.  The  pallor  of  her 
face,  the  sadness  and  subdued  anger  of  her  manner, 
alone  told  the  story  of  her  suffering.  And  Nathaniel 
showed  how  well  he  understood  the  girl  he  loved,  by 
his  sympathetic  silence.  She  had  entered  the  house 
of  sorrow,  and  he  did  not  walk  at  her  side  babbling  and 
questioning  and  lamenting ;  but  Olivia  felt  at  every  step 
how  truly  his  love  enfolded  her. 

The  long  twilight  of  the  season  soon  became  g^ray. 


128  FRIEND   OLIVIA, 

All  glory  went  from  the  horizon,  all  colour  from  sea  and 
land.  Evening  has  strange  sadnesses,  melancholy  tints 
and  tones,  pathetic  intimations  which  the  sensitive  soul 
solemnly  apprehends.  The  lonely  road  they  travelled 
was  void  of  all  counteracting  influences.  It  wound  in 
and  out  among  the  bowlders  of  the  misty  heath ;  the 
sea  was  at  their  right  hand,  —  a  gray,  heaving  mass, 
uttering  a  mournful,  sighing  roar,  and  half  hid  by  a  veil 
of  drifting  vapour.  Yet  only  a  few  hours  before,  the 
world  had  been  so  full  of  light  and  colour,  of  song  and 
scent  and  warmth ;  now  to  the  silent  lovers  it  was  a 
lonely,  sterile  world,  full  of  mystery  and  gloom  and 
strange  ominousness. 

They  arrived  at  D'Acre  Hall  just  as  the  twilight 
became  night.  D'Acre  stood  on  his  door-steps  tak 
ing  his  farewell  look  of  the  day  he  was  going  to  shut 
out  of  his  house.  He  was  startled  by  the  arrival  of 
visitors  at  that  hour ;  but  when  he  recognized  Nathaniel 
and  Olivia  a  look  of  confirmed  expectation  crossed  his 
face.  It  was  as  if  he  had  said,  "  I  was  sure  this  would 
happen."  He  called  his  wife,  and  in  a  few  moments 
Nathaniel  saw  Olivia  kindly  received  by  her  friend.  She 
turned  to  him  one  moment  before  she  entered  the  house, 
and  he  lifted  his  hat  and  bent  his  head  in  reply.  It 
was  the  only  assurance  either  of  them  needed.  They 
loved,  they  trusted,  they  even  dared,  dark  as  the  hour 
was,  to  hope. 

Nathaniel  did  not  alight.  He  had  a  long  ride,  and  he 
was  little  inclined  to  talk  to  any  one  until  he  had  con 
sulted  with  his  father ;  but  it  was  necessary  to  explain 
Olivia's  position,  and  he  did  this  with  as  bare  circum 
stance  as  possible.  D'Acre,  standing  in  the  gloom  with 
his  hand  upon  the  horse's  neck,  heard  him  with  a  troubled 
face. 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  129 

"  So  much  does  not  astonish  me,  Captain  Kelder,"  he 
answered  ;  "  I  pray  God  it  go  no  further.  For  you  must 
know  that  I  was  in  Kendal  yesterday,  and  I  heard  De  Burg 
very  loud  and  insolent  on  the  matter." 

"  I  doubt  it  not." 

"  Squire  Garnet  and  Thomas  Musgrove  and  Isaac  San 
dal  were  talking  with  me,  and  De  Burg,  coming  up  to  us, 
cried,  '  This  is  a  foul  business  !  Here  am  I,  a  gentle 
man  of  honour  and  descent,  put  under  bonds  and  made 
but  a  lodger  in  mine  own  house,  because  I  stand  for 
what  it  would  have  been  treason  and  death  for  my  father 
not  to  have  stood  for,  while  that  Quaker  malignant 
called  Prideaux  is  let  live  at  his  ease,  though  he  be  plot 
ting  in  broad  daylight  against  your  Commonwealth,'  — 
and  a  deal  more  of  the  same  sort  of  words,  but  mainly 
that  Prideaux  had  been  harbouring  Harald  Sandys,  who 
was  Charles  Stuart's  emissary  to  the  English  Quakers ; 
and  hearing  that,  I  went  away,  for  truly  I  believe  the 
matter  to  be  so." 

"  Harald  Sandys  is  dead." 

"  Nay,  then,  I  know  not  what  to  think.  Surely  Roger 
Prideaux  came  to  me  for  a  suit  of  clothing  for  Harald 
Sandys ;  and  I  deem  him  too  true  a  man  to  lie  to  me. 
And  herein  I  am  myself  uneasy  in  the  matter.  It  is  most 
likely  I  may  be  hardly  dealt  with  if  my  kindness  be 
construed  into  giving  aid  to  a  traitor." 

"Is  it  needful  to  speak  of  it?  Prideaux  will  never 
do  so." 

"  Alas,  I  have  already  talked  with  one  who,  I  fear,  will 
be  easily  moved  to  repeat  my  words.  For  meeting  Phil- 
iipson  one  day,  —  and  I  know  not  when  I  have  met  him 
before,  —  we  fell  into  talk  about  Sandys,  and  the  end  of 
so  old  a  family,  and  the  pity  of  it ;  and  further,  Phillip- 
son  said  he  had  been  the  dearest  friend  of  the  late  lord, 

9 


I3O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

and  loved  him.  And  out  of  a  good  feeling  I  replied 
there  was  a  certainty  that  one  of  the  Sandys  yet  lived, 
and  also  that  he  was  deep  in  Charles  Stuart's  counsel, 
and  would  be  like,  if  changes  ever  came,  to  build  still 
higher  the  house  of  Sandys.  And  one  thing  brought  the 
other,  as  it  ever  does,  and  I  fear  that  I  have  done  wrong 
not  only  to  myself  but  also  to  my  friend.  Surely,  surely, 
the  'yea'  and  'nay'  of  the  Quakers  is  all  of  tongue 
traffic  a  man  can  manage  with  safety  and  without  sin." 

This  confession  greatly  troubled  Nathaniel,  tossing  his 
mind  to  and  fro  with  indeterminate  fugitive  fears  and 
suggestions  as  he  galloped  home.  Indeed,  he  was  so 
thoroughly  occupied  with  them  that  he  failed  to  conceive 
the  different  temper  of  minds  not  as  yet  possessed  by 
their  demands,  and  the  baron's  and  Lady  Kelder's  cold 
and  constrained  interest  in  his  return  seemed  to  him 
most  unkind.  If  they  had  met  him  with  eager  question 
ing  and  exclamations  he  would  hardly  have  wondered  or 
inquired ;  but  that  his  father  should  placidly  resume  his 
book  and  his  mother  her  spinning,  as  if  Roger  was  not 
in  prison  and  Olivia  not  a  fugitive  from  her  home,  was 
in  his  present  concentrated  mood  a  real  wrong  to  him. 

"There  is  great  sorrow  at  Sandys,"  he  said  with  an 
air  of  injury. 

The  baron  dropped  his  book,  and  Lady  Kelder  stayed 
her  wheel. 

"Roger  Prideaux  is  taken  to  prison  on  a  charge  of 
treason  against  the  Commonwealth.  De  Burg  has  in 
formed  the  authorities  that  he  was  sheltering  royalist 
emissaries,  —  in  fact,  Harald  Sandys." 

"  He  is  well  served.  The  old  Quaker  must  turn  patron 
to  gentlemen  in  his  old  days,  and  now  he  has  to  pay  the 
price  of  tampering  with  gentlemen's  business.  Faith  !  I 
cannot  afford  to  be  sorry  for  him." 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  131 

"  But  this  is  a  business,  Joan,  which,  if  possible,  we 
must  afford  to  help.  What  is  the  first  thing,  Nathaniel?  " 

"  Bail,  if  admissible." 

"  Bail !     No  more  of  that,  I  pray,  Odinel." 

"  Indeed,  I  fear  it  is  beyond  me.  Kelderby  is  fully 
pledged  for  De  Burg,  and  over  Swaffham  I  have  no 
power.  Where  is  the  young  girl?" 

"  I  left  her  at  D' Acre's,  but  she  hath  no  right  there ; 
if  my  mother  would  but  offer  her  —  " 

"  She  hath  no  right  here." 

"  She  hath  the  right  of  my  promised  wife." 

"  Nathaniel !  " 

Lady  Kelder  rose  with  the  word,  and  passionately 
pushing  her  wheel  aside,  she  said, — 

"  Dare  you  tell  me  that  again?  " 

Mother  and  son  looked  steadily  at  each  other ;  there 
was  no  flinching  in  either  face. 

"  She  hath  the  right  of  my  promised  wife." 

"  When  you  tie  that  knot,  you  may  tie  cobwebs.  And 
while  I  am  mistress  of  Kelderby,  Olivia  Prideaux  crosses 
not  its  threshold." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  cannot  feel  as  I  do  in  this  matter, 
Mother." 

"  Sorry  !  No,  you  are  not  sorry.  You  have  known 
my  mind  about  the  Quakers,  male  and  female,  long  be 
fore  you  met  this  girl.  You  wanted  her  because  you 
were  bounden  by  every  sacred  duty  not  to  want  her. 
Faith  !  if 't  were  not  Adam  pulled  the  forbidden  ap 
ple,  't  was  because  his  courage  went  not  so  far  as  his 
desires." 

"  Joan,  my  dear  heart,  fret  not  yourself  beyond  your 
guidance.  Nathaniel  hath  done  wrong  —  " 

"  He  hath  done  a  cruel  wrong,  —  the  cruellest  wrong  a 
son  can  do  to  the  mother  who  bore  him." 


132  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  Mother,  have  I  not  the  right  to  choose  the  woman  I 
love  for  my  wife?  " 

"  Son,  have  I  not  a  right  to  say  what  woman  shall  be 
my  daughter?  Have  your  father  and  I  not  a  right  to 
say  with  what  family  we  will  blend  our  own  family? 
Who  gave  you  permission  to  mingle  Quaker  blood,  and 
trader's  blood,  with  the  strain  kept  noble  and  honour 
able  through  seven  centuries?  A  boor,  a  lackey,  may 
live  unto  himself,  but  you  !  you  have  no  such  cursed 
privilege,  sir  !  " 

"  Indeed,  I  think  the  Prideaux  may  stand  in  all  honour 
beyond  the  De  Burgs." 

"  Nathaniel,  my  mother  was  a  De  Burg." 

The  baron  spoke  with  unusual  sternness,  and  then 
crossed  the  hearth  and  took  his  wife  upon  his  arm.  "  I 
am  afraid,  Nathaniel,  that  your  visits  to  Sandys  have 
already  done  you  much  mischief." 

"  I  am  prepared  to  meet  it.  I  shall  suffer  with 
Olivia." 

"'//'  Do  you  see  nothing  beyond  yourself,  sir? 
Your  suffering,  your  shame,  can  you  bear  them  alone? 
No,  your  mother  will  have  a  double  portion.  And  I 
think  you  might  also  respect  your  father's  honour,  and 
not  wound  your  father's  heart.  If  you  are  mixed  up  with 
these  Prideaux,  I  too  shall  be  under  suspicion.  My 
friends  will  look  coldly  upon  me ;  my  enemies  will 
shoot  out  the  tongue  and  say  slanderous  things.  I  shall 
lose  my  eminence  among  the  Independents.  Indeed, 
there  needs  no  more  to  all  our  undoing  than  such  an 
alliance." 

"  I  think  I  am  doing  right,  Father." 

"  Nothing  can  be  right  for  yourself  which  is  procured 
by  wronging  your  father  and  mother." 

"Roger  Prideaux  is  innocent,  and  I  think  it  will  be 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  133 

proved  so.  If  not,  whatever  is"  God's  will,  he  can  bravely 
bear  it." 

"God's  will!  That  is  easy  said,  Nathaniel;"  and 
Lady  Kelder  flushed  with  indignation  as  she  spoke.  "  It 
is  presumptuous  to  ascribe  all  that  happens,  however 
wicked  it  be,  to  God.  God  permits  both  the  Devil  and 
men  and  women  to  do  many  things  that  he  does  not 
will  them  to  do.  There  is  a  difference,  —  yes,  a  great 
difference.  God  may  permit  you  to  make  a  selfish  and 
cruel  marriage  in  order  to  gratify  yourself,  but  he  does 
not  will  or  wish  you  to  do  it." 

"  I  love  Olivia ;  she  hath  the  promise  of  my  hand,  — 
a  promise  I  will  not  break.  The  future  holds  miracles ; 
if  I  keep  faith  with  my  love,  I  doubt  not  but  what  truth 
and  patience  will  conquer  in  the  end." 

"  You  are  wonders,  of  course,  both  of  you  !  Nothing 
has  ever  happened  to  your  fathers  that  has  happened  to 
you.  Nathaniel,  you  are  a  very  ordinary  young  man, 
and  Mistress  Prideaux  a  very  ordinary  young  woman. 
Let  me  tell  you  that  the  earth  will  not  move  off  its  axis, 
nor  its  inhabitants  be  turned  upside  down,  to  compass 
your  marriage  with  —  a  Quakeress  !  " 

This  closed  the  argument  for  the  night,  but  it  was  re 
newed  next  morning  on  a  different  basis,  —  or  rather  Lady 
Kelder  refused  to  see  or  hear  or  feel  anything  touching 
the  subject.  Her  own  mind  was  made  up,  and  she  was 
determined  not  to  permit  discussions  which  could  only 
give  her  pain  without  touching  even  the  outermost  edge 
of  her  convictions.  She  disliked  Olivia,  though  she  had 
seen  her  but  twice ;  and  what  argument  can  conquer  a 
soul's  involuntary  antipathy? 

Olivia's  serenity,  her  unassuming  modesty  of  garb  and 
manner,  her  peculiar  form  of  speech,  were  all  affectations 
to  Lady  Kelder.  Besides  which,  she  had  an  abhorrence 


134  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

of  Quaker  doctrines.  Extreme  Calvinism  had  moulded 
her  spiritual  nature ;  its  austerity  and  intolerance  made 
the  boundary  lines  of  all  her  ideas.  She  had  received 
from  Mr.  Duttred  as  well  as  from  Nathaniel  an  account 
of  the  Fox  meeting  at  Roger  Prideaux's,  and  had  felt 
scandalized  at  Olivia's  interruption  of  a  grave  theological 
debate.  These  emotional  young  girls,  who  talked  of  an 
indwelling  Christ,  and  of  heavenly  visions,  inspired  her 
with  no  other  feeling  but  that  of  dislike.  She  was  angry 
at  such  presumption.  The  revelation  of  heavenly  things 
unto  babes,  instead  of  unto  priests,  was  a  doctrine  she 
did  not  practically  admit. 

In  the  solitude  of  the  midnight  she  had  sat  alone  with 
her  soul  and  conscientiously  examined  her  motives.  And 
she  was  sure  that  Nathaniel's  marriage  with  Olivia  would 
be  a  most  unfortunate  one  for  her  son.  A  Quaker  wife 
would  separate  him  from  all  their  old  friends  and  associ 
ations.  Unless  Nathaniel  became  a  Quaker,  there  would 
be  a  divided  household  in  religious  matters.  If  Nathan 
iel  became  a  Quaker,  the  remedy  would  be  worse  than 
the  disease.  In  that  case  he  would  also  be  practically 
shut  out  from  all  civil  offices  and  from  all  social  respect. 
His  fine  position,  his  ancient  prestige,  could  be  used 
only  for  the  spread  of  Quakerism.  Spiritually  and  tem 
porally,  in  her  opinion,  the  alliance  meant  ruin  to  her 
son. 

The  baron  shared  her  opinions,  modified  somewhat 
by  a  more  comprehensive  and  masculine  grasp  of  the 
subject.  "  If  Quakerism  is  not  of  God,"  he  said,  "  it 
will  speedily  pass  away ;  and  Nathaniel  hath  so  much 
sense  as  to  discover  this."  He  reflected  also  that 
Olivia's  peculiarities  would  probably  be  softened  by  the 
social  and  domestic  demands  of  life  at  Kelderby,  and 
that  even  if  they  were  not,  the  estate  of  Sandys  was  a 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  135 

very  fair  set-off  against  religious  opinions  which  in  some 
respects  his  own  experience  justified.  Still  he  was  not 
inclined  to  encourage  the  marriage ;  he  believed  truly  it 
would  be  neither  happy  nor  prosperous. 

After  breakfast  father  and  son  took  a  walk,  in  order 
to  talk  more  freely  about  the  situation  of  the  Prideaux 
and  the  extent  of  danger  likely  to  touch  Kelderby  in 
consequence. 

"  I  think  it  is  but  a  woman's  passion,' '  said  Nathaniel. 
"Anastasia  has  no  continuance  of  purpose,  either  in 
good  or  in  evil." 

"  Herein  you  judge  foolishly,  Nathaniel.  Anastasia, 
by  her  first  movement  of  revenge,  has  put  the  matter  be 
yond  her  own  control.  And  D'Acre's  report  shows  that 
Stephen  de  Burg  has  lifted  her  cause.  In  some  way  or 
other,  it  is  his  intention  to  make  this  an  occasion  for  a 
quarrel  with  me.  Then  —  you  can  see  what  will  follow." 

"  He  and  Anastasia  will  go  to  Charles  Stuart,  and  you 
will  have  the  forfeit  to  pay." 

"Also,  I  myself  may  fall  under  suspicion  with  the 
Commonwealth.  Judges  who  look  beyond  the  day  will 
argue  that  De  Burg,  being  my  cousin,  and  a  man  of  such 
reputed  honour,  would  not  so  wrong  my  kindness  unless 
under  some  secret  agreement  of  mutual  interest ;  and 
the  natural  suspicion  will  be  that  it  refers  to  the  return  of 
Charles  Stuart.  Nathaniel,  I  am  in  a  very  hard  case.  I 
pray  you  do  not  strengthen  ill  thoughts  by  a  friendship 
and  alliance  with  that  Quaker,  who  is  already  doubted  in 
his  loyalty." 

"  We  know,  Father,  that  the  man  was  'ohn  de  Burg, 
and  not  Harald  Sandys." 

"  We  do  not  know.  Your  apprehension  is  not  con 
firmation  to  any  mind  but  your  own.  Also,  you  must 
plainly  perceive  that  Prideaux  entertained  the  man  be- 


136  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

lieving  him  to  be  Harald  Sandys,  and,  on  his  own  con 
fession,  '  about  the  king's  business.'  Nor  will  it  help 
him  to  say  it  was  John  de  Burg,  while  it  may  make  my 
cousin  and  Anastasia  so  much  more  our  enemies." 

"  Still  if  asked,  I  must  tell  the  truth." 

"  If  your  conscience  demand  so  much  —  yes." 

"  As  for  my  promise  to  Olivia  —  " 

"  It  must  be  set  aside.  All  promises  depend  upon 
the  power  to  perform  them." 

"  I  have  the  power  to  perform  this  promise." 

"  Not  without  committing  grave  wrongs  to  your 
mother  and  me.  A  promise  kept  under  such  circum 
stances  is  worse  than  broken." 

"  I  have  an  obligation  to  Olivia,  and  also  to  Olivia's 
father.  I  cannot  break  it." 

"  You  have  an  obligation  far  older  and  more  sacred  to 
your  mother  and  to  your  own  father.  Do  not  dare  to 
break  it,  lest  you  lack  God's  blessing  on  all  else." 

"Is  it  not  said  that  a  man  shall  leave  father  and 
mother  for  his  wife?" 

"It  is  said  they  'shall'  do  so.  But  it  is  not  said  that 
they  '  ought '  to  do  it.  It  is  also  said  that  men  '  shall ' 
deny  God,  and  persecute  the  saints,  and  commit  all 
manner  of  sin.  Your  mother  said  truly  last  night  that 
many  things  are  permitted  of  God  that  are  not  of  God's 
will.  Let  me  tell  you  that  a  life  of  self-indulgent  love 
will  smart  as  death.  There  is  always  a  way  to  reconcile 
duties,  if  men  will  patiently  take  counsel  of  God  and  put 
away  the  spirit  of  self-serving." 

Nathaniel's  answer  was  interrupted  by  the  approach  of 
an  officer  with  a  summons  for  Nathaniel  Kelder  to  ap 
pear  before  the  Kendal  magistrates  on  the  following  day, 
as  a  witness  in  the  complaint  of  the  Commonwealth 
against  Roger  Prideaux.  And  in  further  conversation 


DE  BURG'S  FIRST  MOVE.  137 

with  the  man  it  was  ascertained  that  Olivia  Prideaux, 
Asa  Bevin,  John  D'Acre,  and  Stephen  de  Burg  with  his 
daughter  Anastasia  had  also  been  cited.  He  stated  fur 
ther,  that  the  examination  was  likely  to  cause  great  ex 
citement,  and  to  be  attended  by  many  sympathizers  on 
both  sides. 

The  news,  though  expected,  was  startling.  We  think  we 
have  prepared  ourselves  for  an  event,  but  we  never  have. 
Its  arrival  is  always  a  shock.  Both  men  dreaded  the 
camp  of  gowned  conflict.  Both  men  would  far  rather 
have  buckled  on  their  swords  and  gone  to  the  battlefield 
for  the  Commonwealth  than  enter  those  treacherous  lists. 

"  But  the  evil  we  have  called  unto  us,"  said  the  baron, 
with  a  sigh,  "  we  must  face." 

"  Well,  then,  Father,  the  good  man  stands  under  the 
eye  of  God,  and  therefore  stands.  Courage  carries  the 
day,  and  love  won't  fail  us  anywhere." 

For  Nathaniel  had  one  of  those  souls  born  for  adver 
sity,  which  win  from  it  the  strength  to  nerve  themselves 
for  the  loftiest  endurance  or  endeavour,  — 

"E'en  as  the  falcon,  when  the  wind  is  fair, 

Close  to  the  earth  on  lagging  pinion  goes  ; 
But  when  against  her  beats  the  adverse  air, 
She  breasts  the  gale,  and  rises  as  it  blows." 


VIII. 

THE  KING'S   SERVANTS. 

fc  He  who  deceives  by  an  oath  acknowledges  that  he  fears  his  enemy,  but 
despises  God." 

"  Like  to  a  sea-girt  rock  I  stand, 

Deep  sunk  in  peace  though  storms  rage  by, 
As  calm  as  if  on  every  hand 

Were  only  Thou,  O  God,  and  1 1 " 

WHEN  Nathaniel  awoke  the  next  morning  he  had  a 
moment's  wonder  as  to  where  he  was;  for  the 
brattle  of  sweet-tongued  bells  clashed  and  clanged  in  the 
sunny  air  with  a  joyful  melody.  He  leaped  up  to  the  ex 
ultant  octaves,  his  soul,  independently  of  his  will,  set 
ting  them  to  the  musical  old  chime,  — 

"  O  !  te  laudum  millibus, 

Laudo !  Laudo 1  Laudo ! 
Tantis  mirabilibus, 

Plaudo!  Plaudo!  Plaudol 
Gloria  sit  gloria, 

Domino  in  altis ; 
Cui  testimonia, 
Danter  et  praeconia, 

Cxlicis  a  psaltis." 

There  is  a  kind  of  compulsion  in  such  familiar  rhymes, 
the  mind  perforce  goes  through  them ;  and  yet  before 
the  charmful  words  were  half  recalled  Nathaniel  had  suf 
fered  a  sudden  depression.  The  old  question,  What  is 
the  matter?  deadened  the  last  lines,  and  they  sung 
themselves  mournfully  out  of  his  consciousness. 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  139 

He  had  left  Kelderby  for  Kendal  on  the  previous  day 
immediately  after  receiving  the  summons,  and  had  spent 
the  night  in  the  Crown  Inn  of  that  town.  With  the  rec 
ognition  of  this  fact  came  the  instantaneous  memory  of 
all  the  unhappy  circumstances  which  had  brought  him  to 
the  unfamiliar  room ;  and  he  was  compelled  to  acknowl 
edge  that  Roger's  affairs  were  capable  of  being  worked  to 
much  loss  and  sorrow.  He  had  found  him  so  strictly 
confined  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  speech  with  him, 
and  the  general  opinion  was  adverse  to  his  case. 

He  was  also  troubled  about  Olivia's  position  ;  for  on  his 
way  to  Kendal  he  had  called  at  D'Acre  Hall,  and  found 
that  D'Acre  had  retreated  into  the  safest  lines  of  popular 
approval.  Olivia  was  constrained  and  unhappy.  She 
felt  the  chilliness  and  anxiety  of  her  entertainers,  and  she 
regretted  having  left  the  fortress  of  her  home. 

D'Acre  being  also  summoned,  it  would  have  been  in 
friendly  accord  with  the  circumstances  to  have  detained 
Nathaniel  until  the  morning,  or  else  to  have  accompanied 
him  to  Kendal  without  further  delay.  But  D'Acre  did  not 
wish  to  be  associated  with  people  suspicious  in  the  public 
eye.  The  charge  of  Olivia  annoyed  him  very  much,  and 
he  thought  it  would  be  a  wrong  to  his  young  wife  to  have 
her  seen  with  the  girl.  He  did  not  indeed  say  so,  but 
Nathaniel  had  one  of  those  souls  which  see  our  human 
nature  behind  the  veils  of  Eleusis.  He  understood  the 
sickness  which  would  prevent  Mistress  D'Acre  going  to 
Kendal  with  her  guest ;  he  felt  the  frosty  hospitality,  the 
bareness  of  sympathy  which  wounded  and  repressed 
Olivia,  and  he  was  glad  to  hear  her  say,  — 

"  If  God  will,  I  shall  go  back  to  Sandys  to-morrow." 

"You  will  do  right,  Olivia.  Sorrow  should  bide  at 
home." 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  D'Acre,  who  was  nettled  by 


140 


FRIEND   OLIVIA. 


Nathaniel's  tone  more  than  by  his  words.  "  If  a  man 
can  salute  his  own  special  troubles,  he  does  as  well  as 
flesh  and  blood  can  do." 

"  True,  D'Acre,  if  flesh  and  blood  were  all." 

There  was  such  sadness  in  Nathaniel's  voice  that 
D'Acre  did  not  word  the  quick  answer  he  had  ready.  For 
we  are  complex  creatures ;  and  if  it  be  true  that  when 
we  would  do  good  evil  is  present  with  us,  it  is  equally 
true  that  often  when  we  would  do  evil  a  good  thought 
or  a  kind  feeling  restrains  the  evil. 

Nathaniel  dressed  quickly,  with  a  certain  careful  splen 
dour,  and  he  was  still  young  enough  to  eat  heartily,  though 
Anxiety  sat  down  at  the  table  with  him.  The  sky  was 
without  a  cloud  ;  the  sunshine  filled  the  streets ;  the 
bell-ringers  kept  up  their  happy  riot  of  exultant  melody ; 
the  shopkeepers  stood  with  broad,  beaming  faces  at 
their  doors ;  the  women  were  at  the  open  windows.  For 
it  was  pretty  Mary  Pierson's  wedding-day ;  and  because 
human  nature  never  wearies  of  its  prime  elementary  feel 
ings,  the  wedding  peal  found  some  echoes  in  nearly 
every  heart. 

Nathaniel  walked  slowly  through  the  clean  white 
streets.  The  wedding  was  over,  but  men  and  women 
still  stood  together  talking  about  it.  He  went  thought 
fully  forward  until  he  had  passed  the  parish  church,  then 
turning  he  saw  Parson  Derby  just  leaving  the  rectory, 
and  Stephen  de  Burg  was  with  him. 

The  examination  was  appointed  for  eleven  o'clock, 
and  before  that  hour  a  great  number  of  people  were  in 
the  Town  Hall.  The  wedding  had  broken  into  the  day's 
work,  and  the  trial  of  Master  Prideaux  was  more  attrac 
tive  to  them  than  their  belated  tasks. 

When  Nathaniel  entered  it,  his  first  glance  fell  upon 
Olivia.  She  sat  near  the  bench  for  the  magistrates,  a 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  141 

little  apart,  and  quite  alone.  D'Acre  had  brought  her 
thus  far,  and  then  found  in  his  own  affairs  an  excuse 
from  further  attendance.  She  was  not  sorry  to  bid  him 
farewell ;  for  a  friend  who  has  fallen  below  his  profession 
is  a  contemptible  creature,  even  to  himself.  As  he  turned 
from  her  the  Hall  bell  began  to  ring,  and  she  could  not 
help  feeling  that  it  was  a  forlorn  bell,  tolling  for  one  who 
had  lost  a  great  opportunity. 

A  few  minutes  after  D'Acre's  desertion  Nathaniel  saw 
her.  She  was  dressed  with  extreme  plainness  in  a  black 
gown,  though  a  kerchief  of  white  lawn  covered  her  throat 
and  bosom,  and  a  hood  of  white  sarcenet  lay  across  her 
bright  hair.  Its  silken  sheen  and  the  clear  purity  of  the 
lawn  made  around  her  head  reflections  of  white  light, 
quite  distinct  in  the  dusty  atmosphere  of  the  room,  and 
in  them  her  fair  face  looked  as  a  white  rose  looks  in  the 
garden's  golden  sunshine. 

Nathaniel  went  to  her  side  and  spoke  to  her  in  whis 
pers,  —  he  scarce  knew  what  words,  only  that  they  came 
straight  from  his  heart,  and  were  altogether  made  of  love 
and  pity.  Men  and  women  whom  they  heeded  not,  looked 
at  them  with  interest  and  sympathy ;  for  if  Nathaniel  had 
stood  up  in  the  midst  of  them  and  said  aloud,  "  I  love 
this  girl  with  all  my  soul,"  he  could  not  have  taken  them 
into  his  confidence  more  completely.  And  it  was  pleasant 
to  see  the  little  groups  affecting  a  kind  disregard,  —  turn 
ing  from  their  points  of  observation,  or  finding  in  their 
own  affairs  a  suddenly  overwhelming  interest. 

In  the  few  moments'  grace  thus  afforded,  many  things 
were  hurriedly  said ;  they  talked  as  souls  may  talk  who 
meet  after  cycles  of  separation,  hastening  their  confidences 
because  their  parting  may  come  before  their  sweetest 
thoughts  are  told.  Holding  her  hand,  watching  with 
brimming  eyes  the  tears  upon  her  cheeks,  feeling  as  if 


142  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

life  held  only  that  precious  ten  minutes,  Nathaniel  talked 
with  Olivia. 

Then  there  was  the  sound  of  laughter  and  of  footsteps 
on  the  stone  stairway,  and  the  rush  of  that  invisible  force 
which  always  accompanies  the  entry  of  a  number  of  hu 
man  beings  into  a  room.  Parson  Derby  and  Stephen 
de  Burg  came  first ;  Anastasia  was  just  behind  them, 
Squire  Chenage  and  Sir  Edward  le  Tall  walking  at  her 
side ;  Judah  Parke  and  Elijah  Waring,  magistrates,  fol 
lowed.  It  was  said  that  Elijah  Waring  favoured  the 
Quakers,  and  that  his  wife  Jenifer  had  joined  the  society ; 
but  Judah  Parke  was  a  Presbyterian  of  the  strictest  sort, 
and  a  Quaker  was  an  abomination  to  him. 

A  sudden  silence,  slightly  broken  by  whispers  and 
shuffling  feet,  followed ;  then  the  jailer  entered  with 
Roger  Prideaux,  who  walked  between  two  constables. 
He  had  to  pass  within  a  few  feet  of  Olivia,  and  as  he  did 
so  she  obeyed  the  impulse  of  her  heart  and  rose  and 
kissed  him,  —  kissed  his  face,  and  then  casting  her  eyes 
upon  his  still  manacled  hands,  she  .stooped  and  kissed 
them  also.  The  act  was  involuntary ;  it  was  finished  be 
fore  a  word  of  dissent  could  be  spoken,  but  as  she  sat 
down  again  an  indescribable  murmur  of  sympathy  ran 
through  the  room. 

It  angered  the  parson,  and  he  asked  peremptorily  that 
the  examination  of  Roger  Prideaux  be  immediately  begun. 
The  first  witness  called  was  Anastasia  de  Burg.  She  rose 
with  that  flurry  which  seemed  inseparable  from  all  her 
moods,  in  spite  of  the  pride  bred  in  her  by  her  order  and 
position  ;  she  readily  took  the  proffered  oath,  though  with 
some  incoherence,  for  she  was  confused  with  the  con 
sciousness  that  Nathaniel's  eyes  were  upon  her. 

Never  had  she  been  more  bewitchingly  beautiful; 
never  had  she  dressed  herself  with  a  more  enhancing 


THE  KIArGS  SERVANTS.  143 

splendour.  She  wore  a  petticoat  of  lead-coloured  satin, 
with  an  overgown  of  lavender  moire,  trimmed  with  silver 
buttons  and  silver  lace.  A  whisk  of  fine  white  point  was 
her  neck-dress,  and  above  her  flowing  curls  drooped  a 
low  beaver  hat,  heavy  with  white  and  lavender  feathers. 
Long  lavender  gloves  embroidered  with  silver  covered 
her  hands  and  arms ;  she  carried  a  little  Indian  cane 
painted  and  gilt,  and  at  her  waist  was  a  silver  chain, 
holding  half  a  dozen  Italian  cameo  seals,  —  the  extrava 
gant  fad  of  the  day. 

Being  interrogated  as  to  her  knowledge  of  Roger  Pri- 
deaux's  guest,  she  said,  — 

"  'T  was  on  the  2gth  of  May  I  was  out  driving,  as  is  my 
custom,  and  passing  Sandys  Hall  I  bethought  me  of  the 
many  strange  rumours  I  had  heard  of  the  new  owners,  and 
I  determined  to  gratify  my  curiosity  regarding  all  these. 
'T  was  said  also  that  Mistress  Prideaux  was  a  wonder  of 
womanhood,  —  of  a  very  sober  humour,  infinitely  discreet 
and  virtuous,  —  and  I  had  a  mind  to  see  such  a  miracle 
of  my  sex.  I  found  the  door  guarded,  —  as  treasures  are 
said  to  be,  —  by  an  old  dragon,  who  refused  me  entrance 
with  many  excuses,  all  of  which  I  denied  with  a  determi 
nation  that  won  my  way ;  and  so  I  came  to  the  parlour, 
where  I  found  Mistress  Prideaux  and  Captain  Kelder  and 
a  strange  gentleman  of  a  very  brave  countenance,  whom 
Mistress  Prideaux  told  me  was  Harald  Sandys,  '  fearing 
nothing,'  as  she  said,  '  from  a  person  of  my  opinions.'  " 

"What  said  you?" 

"  I  said  the  king's  —  I  said  Charles  Stuart's  friends 
were  my  friends ;  and  so  on  with  discourse  of  that  kind, 
until  I  spoke  of  a  ship  lying  off  Barrow,  said  to  be  there 
for  his  Majes  —  for  certain  of  the  friends  of  Charles 
S-uart ;  and  with  that  he  immediately  disappeared,  and 
I  saw  him  no  more." 


144  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  What  said  Captain  Kelder?  " 

"  He  spoke  only  of  things  in  general,  —  such  speech 
as  gallants  make  to  young  women,  and  young  women 
forget." 

"What  said  Mistress  Prideaux  to  this  sudden  de 
parture?  " 

"  Mistress  Prideaux  had  just  left  the  room  for  a  cordial, 
and  I,  finding  Captain  Kelder's  company  not  to  my  lik 
ing,  took  a  hasty  leave  upon  some  excuse,  and  so  to 
Madam  Cecil's  at  Milnthorpe,  where  I  related  what  had 
passed  and  spent  the  night." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  the  proper  officers  at  once?  " 

"  In  faith  !  I  am  not  paid  to  protect  the  Common 
wealth  ;  1  leave  that  to  wiser  heads.  If  't  was  Harald 
Sandys  I  wished  him  safe  away,  —  and  no  harm,  I  trust, 
in  a  woman's  good  wish.  But  all  are  not  equally  discreet. 
Some  of  Madam  Cecil's  maids  heard  of  the  affair,  and  so 
it  passed  around  until  my  father  demanded  of  me  the  right 
of  the  report ;  further,  the  question  is  his,  not  mine." 

"You  are  certain  this  stranger  was  Harald  Sandys?" 

"  I  have  never  seen  Harald  Sandys.  I  took  him  on  the 
word  of  Mistress  Prideaux,  —  who  is  vouched  for  as  be 
yond  a  lie." 

"  Would  you  know  the  man  again?  " 

"  On  my  word  a~d  honour,  anywhere." 

Olivia  PrideauA  was  the  next  witness.  Anastasia  retired, 
and  she  stepped  into  her  place.  The  contrast  between 
the  two  women  was  sharp,  —  that  between  their  manners 
still  more  remarkable.  Anastasia  had  been  restless  and 
self-conscious;  her  fingers  had  toyed  with  her  seals  all 
the  time.  While  speaking  she  had  pushed  a  froward  curl 
behind  her  ear,  and  shaken  a  fine  handkerchief  with 
strawberry  buttons  upon  it,  and  opened  her  vinaigrette, 
and  broken  to  pieces  one  of  the  red  roses  at  her  bosom. 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  145 

Olivia  was  quite  still ;  she  was  asked  to  take  the  oath. 
Her  answer  was  low  but  distinct,  — 

"  I  dare  not." 

"  The  law  bids  you  do  it,"  said  Parson  Derby. 

"  Christ  forbids  me.  '  Swear  not  at  all,'  —  thou  canst 
read  for  thyself." 

"  Tis  an  excuse,"  said  Judah  Parke.  "These  Quaker 
women  love  nothing  better  than  the  cry  of  martyrdom ; 
and  we  may  plainly  perceive  that  this  girl  will  rather  go 
to  prison  than  tell  the  truth  against  her  father.  My  ad 
vice  is  that  we  take  her  on  her  word." 

There  was  some  discussion  on  this  proposal,  and  mean 
while  Olivia  stood  at  perfect  rest.  Her  hands,  folded  on 
the  railing  before  her,  made  no  movement ;  her  interior 
sight,  being  toward  Him  who  is  invisible,  gave  to  its 
mortal  symbols  a  holy  fixedness  of  purpose ;  her  face 
was  as  calm  as  the  face  of  a  happy  sleeper ;  her  body, 
though  she  was  standing,  was  full  of  repose ;  for  the  con 
sciousness  of  God's  presence  was  so  real  to  her  that  she 
quieted  herself  in  it,  as  a  babe  is  quieted  who  feels  the 
throb  of  its  mother's  breast  and  the  clasp  of  its  mother's 
arms." 

"Mistress  Prideaux,"  said  Elijah  Waring,  "we  will  take 
your  word,  as  an  oath  is  a  point  of  conscience  with  you." 

"  A  foolish  concession,  Master  Waring,  and  I  will  still 
say  so ;  for  if  this  scruple  stand,  it  will  be  a  cloak  long 
enough  to  cover  all  the  Jesuits  that  may  come  into  Eng 
land,"  and  the  priest  frowned  angrily. 

"  Still,  Parson,  we  shall  not  reach  the  witness  without 
it.  For  myself,  I  will  take  Olivia  Prideaux's  word  if  she 
tell  us  plainly  when  and  where  she  first  saw  this  Harald 
Sandys." 

"  On  the  2Oth  day  of  Fifth  Month,  in  the  garden  at 
Sandys." 


146  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"What  said  he?" 

"  That  he  was  Harald  Sandys,  and  that  he  had  been 
upon  the  king's  business  to  Penrith,  and  was  like  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  so  lose  his  life." 

"  You  think  him  to  be  the  man  he  said  ?  " 

"  At  the  first,  truly  so.  He  told  us  of  his  wound  at 
Marston  Moor,  and  of  his  escape  to  Charles  Stuart,  and  I 
believed  him." 

"  Do  you  favour  Charles  Stuart  as  ruler  of  this  realm?  " 

"  I  favour  him  not." 

"  Does  your  father  favour  him  so  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  a  lover  of  the  Commonwealth  and  of  the 
Protector." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  succour  an  emissary  of  Charles 
Stuart?" 

"  I  succoured  him  not  as  Charles  Stuart's  friend." 

"How,  then?" 

"  As  a  perishing  man.  When  he  fell  at  my  feet  and 
said,  '  Save  my  life,'  I  felt  favoured  to  do  so.  What 
wouldst  thou  have  done?" 

Waring  looked  troubled,  but  he  answered  brusquely, 
"  I  hope  I  should  have  done  right.  Did  you  hear  him 
speak  of  the  Quakers,  and  of  Charles  Stuart's  pity  for 
their  sufferings?" 

"  He  spoke  not  of  Charles  Stuart,  nor  yet  of  the  people 
thou  callest  Quakers." 

"  Your  father  knew  that  he  was  Harald  Sandys  ?  " 

"  He  believed  him  to  be  Harald  Sandys." 

"  He  knew  him  to  be  on  some  business  for  Charles 
Stuart." 

"Yes." 

"  Why,  then,  did  he  succour  him  if  he  is  a  lover  of  the 
Commonwealth?  " 

"  Because  he  was  miserable  and  in  danger.     Said  God 


THE  KINGS  SERVANTS.  147 

ever  to  a  miserable  man,  '  Whose  son  art  thou  ? '  or 
to  a  perishing  man,  '  Servest  thou  the  king,  or  the 
Commonwealth? '  " 

There  was  a  low  murmur  of  assent  through  the  room, 
and  Elijah  Waring  looked  at  his  associate  with  anxious 
eyes.  He  saw  him  not,  for  he  was  steadily  regarding  the 
young  girl  who  had  asked  such  a  searching  question. 

The  priest  broke  the  silence  that  followed.  "  You 
Quaker  women  are  better  at  demanding  than  at  answer 
ing  ;  and  by  my  word,  for  one  so  wise,  you  took  the 
man  on  light  evidence.  He  might  have  been  a  mur 
derer,  a  pirate,  or  a  thief,  for  aught  you  know.  Show 
us  by  what  signs  you  were  satisfied  that  he  was  in  reality 
Harald  Sandys." 

"  I  have  been  given  to  understand  that  he  was  not 
Harald  Sandys." 

"  Oh  !  " 

This  "  oh "  sprang  involuntarily  from  many  a  lip, 
and  in  all  variety  of  tones.  Parson  Derby  looked  ex 
ceedingly  gratified,  and  his  "oh"  was  one  of  proud 
satisfaction ;  for  he  perceived  that  his  penetration  had 
touched  an  important  point  of  evidence. 

"When  were  you  given  to  understand  this?" 

"After  he  had  gone,  suddenly,  without  any  words 
of  thanks  or  kindness." 

"Who  gave  you  to  understand  it?" 

"Nathaniel  Kelder." 

There  was  a  general  ejaculation  of  surprise,  and  every 
eye  that  could  command  him  was  fixed  upon  Nathaniel. 
He  bore  the  inquisition  with  an  unmoved  countenance, 
though  his  gaze  was  full  of  fire  and  the  lines  around  his 
mouth  were  stern  and  steady.  Anastasia  looked  at  him 
for  a  moment,  —  a  rapid  glance  that  was  first  entreaty, 
but  was  instantly  turned  to  defiance  by  the  calm  severity 


148  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

of  his  face ;  then  she  let  her  gaze  drop  upon  her  seals, 
and  lifting  one  she  began  in  a  low  voice  to  talk  to  Sir 
Edward  le  Tall  about  it. 

"  'T  was  brought  out  of  the  Indies,  I  do  believe  :  an 
idol's  head  very  like,  and  sure  they  took  the  Devil  him 
self  for  the  pattern  of  it ;  but  I  am  extremely  fond  of 
the  oddity  of  the  ugly  thing."  And  all  through  this 
fantastic  whispering  she  heard  the  question  she  was 
dreading,  to  hear. 

"  If  he  was  not  Harald  Sandys,  who  then  was  he  ? 
Were  you  given  to  understand  so  much  ?  " 

"  He  was  John  de  Burg." 

A  low,  sharp  cry,  like  that  of  an  animal  caught  in  a 
trap,  followed.  It  came  from  the  lips  of  Anastasia ;  but 
it  was  not  noticed  in  the  more  furious  outburst  of  her 
father. 

"You  lie,  woman!"  he  shouted  passionately;  and 
then  turning  to  Nathaniel :  "  And  you,  sir,  are  a  dam 
nable  liar  !  Digest  the  word  at  your  leisure." 

A  few  moments  of  uproar  followed.  Nathaniel  sprang 
to  his  feet,  but  instantly  sat  down  again,  with  his  back 
to  De  Burg.  The  justices  gave  this  and  that  order, 
and  the  constables  struck  the  unoffending  prisoner.  But 
De  Burg,  having  a  method  in  his  madness,  speedily 
allowed  his  anger  to  give  place  to  the  law's  demand, 
and  at  the  request  of  the  magistrates  permitted  the 
inquiry  to  proceed  without  further  disturbance. 

Olivia's  cheeks  had  become  whiter,  her  eyes  darker, 
her  bearing  more  dignified,  but  otherwise  she  had  let 
the  drift  of  passion  pass  her  by  as  if  she  heard  it  not. 
When  the  examination  was  resumed,  she  was  in  a  mood 
of  perfect  composure. 

"Do  you  believe  it  was  John  de  Burg?" 

"I  do." 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  149 

"Why  do  you  believe  it?" 

"On  the  word  of  Nathaniel   Kelder." 

Olivia  was  then  permitted  to  sit  down.  She  had  to 
face  Anastasia  as  she  walked  to  her  place,  and  Anastasia 
did  her  best  to  make  the  few  yards  a  fiery  passage.  But 
her  spite  and  contempt  and  anger  were  utterly  flung 
away.  Olivia  walked  in  her  own  atmosphere,  and  noth 
ing  evil  entered  it.  She  saw  not  her  enemy,  she  heard 
not  her  scornful  laugh,  she  felt  not  the  hating  glance 
of  her  evil  eyes ;  for  she  was  within  the  shadow  of  His 
wings,  and  He  kept  her  in  perfect  peace. 

Nathaniel  Kelder  was  the  next  witness.  His  words 
were  clear  and  strong  and  to  the  point.  He  spoke 
without  fear,  and  without  evident  anger;  yet  his  heart 
was  hot  within  him. 

"  I  went  to  Sandys  on  the  29th  of  last  May.  A  man 
was  sitting  in  the  parlour  with  Mistress  Prideaux,  reading 
aloud  '  The  Elixir '  of  Mr.  George  Herbert.  I  was  told 
that  it  was  Harald  Sandys ;  but  I  knew  that  it  was  John 
de  Burg." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Stephen  de  Burg,  "this  is  the  perfectest 
lie  !  John  de  Burg  reading  the  saintly  George  Herbert  1 
As  well  tell  us  the  Devil  was  reading  the  Gospels." 

"  It  was  John  de  Burg,"  reiterated  Nathaniel. 

"  How  were  you  certified  that  it  was  John  de  Burg?  " 

"  Nine  days  before,  I  was  told  that  John  de  Burg  had 
been  hid  in  his  father's  house  for  six  weeks ;  and  I  was 
asked  to  shelter  him  and  aid  him  further.  I  refused  to 
do  so.  Evidence  indisputable  to  my  mind  made  me 
understand  that  Harald  Sandys  and  John  de  Burg  were 
the  same  man.  As  John  de  Burg  I  ordered  him  to 
leave  Sandys  on  the  instant ;  and  to  avoid  arrest  by  me, 
he  leaped  from  a  window  and  went  at  my  word." 

"'T  is  more  and  more  beyond  belief!  "  shouted  the 


150.  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

irate  De  Burg.  "John  is  a  world-wide  villain,  but  yet 
too  much  De  Burg  to  go  on  your  order." 

"  I  have  nothing  further  to  say." 

"  Asa  Bevin  !  " 

The  old  man  rose  at  once,  and  advanced  with  the  air 
of  one  who  not  only  has  something  to  say,  but  who  is 
determined  to  say  it.  His  small,  prim  figure,  his  thin, 
resolute  face,  his  tall  stiff  hat  planted  firmly  on  his  head, 
were  provocative  of  opposition. 

Judah  Parke  felt  the  spirit  of  persecution  stirring  in 
his  heart.  It  seemed  to  him  like  an  agreeable  sense  of 
duty,  and  he  bent  forward  and  said  sharply, — 

"Asa  Bevin,  remove  your  hat." 

"  Best  Wisdom  inclines  me  not  to  do  so.  When  I 
pray  to  God,  I  uncover  my  head ;  and  I  will  not  give 
to  thee  and  sundry  the  honour  I  give  to  God." 

"  Jailer,  take  off  his  hat."  1 

The  hat  was  instantly  thrown  to  the  floor.  It  fell  at 
the  feet  of  one  who  kicked  it  out  of  his  way,  and  so 
touching  another  was  kicked  farther,  and  thus  until  it 
was  beyond  sight  and  reach.  Asa  looked  after  it  with 
a  queer  wrinkling  of  his  thin  face.  It  made  mirth  also 
for  the  crowd,  to  whom  a  stray  hat  is  ever  a  thing  for 
kicks  and  jokes,  and  some  quip  of  vulgar  wit  just  hit 
ting  the  time  put  even  the  magistrates  in  a  guffaw  of 
laughter. 

Asa  looked  and  listened  with  contemptuous  anger ; 
and  when  Judah  Parke,  recovering  first,  asked,  "What 
say  you  to  this  merry  uncovering  of  a  Quaker?"  Asa 

1  At  this  date  men  wore  their  hats  constantly  both  in  the  house  and  in 
church.  They  sat  at  meals  in  them.  They  listened  to  a  play  m  them. 
The  preacher  went  to  the  pulpit  in  his  hat,  the  congregation  doffed  theirs 
only  at  the  name  of  God.  Hat-lifting  was  a  foreign  fashion  but  recently 
brought  to  England.  Sober  men  wore  their  hats.  Wits  and  fops  carried 
theirs  in  their  hands  most  of  the  time. 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  151 

answered,  "  The  fool's  heart  is  full  of  laughter,  but 
whenever  did  the  saints  of  God  live  in  laughing  and 
mocking?" 

"Give  him  the  oath." 

"  Thou  knowest  I  will  take  no  oath.  I  will  speak  the 
truth  without  the  great  presumption  of  summoning  the 
Almighty  God  to  be  witness  for  me.  Neither  at  thy 
command  will  I  break  the  command  of  One  who  is 
thy  Lord  and  Master  as  well  as  mine." 

"  If  you  take  not  the  oath,  then  we  must  send  you 
to  jail ;  and  as  for  the  command  of  Christ,  ask  the  par 
son,  and  he  will  tell  you  that  it  referred  to  profane 
speech,  not  to  oaths  for  the  sake  of  truth  and  justice." 

It  was  Waring  who  spoke  ;  for  he  pitied  the  man  who 
was  wilfully  electing  himself  to  the  martyrdom  of  the 
jails  of  those  days.  Asa  looked  at  the  parson,  but  with 
out  any  design  of  asking  information  from  him ;  for  he 
immediately  denied  the  reconciling  statement. 

"  Thou  art  all  wrong.  Profane  speech  had  been  un 
lawful  since  the  days  of  Moses.  But  not  for  any  magis 
trate  will  I  break  either  the  law  of  Moses  or  the  law  of 
Christ.  Thou  canst  send  me  to  jail  for  my  refusal, 
if  thou  wiliest  to  do  so." 

"  I  understand  not  the  law  of  Moses  and  the  law  of 
Christ  specially  so,"  said  Parson  Derby,  with  an  air 
of  authority. 

"  Thou  needest  God  to  make  thee  understand  God." 

"I  preach  a  true  doctrine.  'T  would  be  well  if  you 
would  come  and  hear  it." 

"  Many  preachers  hear  not  themselves.  And  as  for 
instruction,  God  speaks  to  man  without  ringing  of  church 
bells." 

"  This  fellow  will  dispute  all  day  long.  Take  his 
word  on  the  matter  in  question;  the  refusal  to  take 


152  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

oath  is  but  a  door  to  get  out  of  testimony  against  his 
master." 

"  Asa  Bevin,  what  know  you  of  the  man  called  Harald 
Sandys." 

"  Olivia  Prideaux  brought  him  to  me  on  the  2Oth  day 
of  Fifth  Month,  —  a  dirty,  wicked-looking  vagabond  as 
ever  I  saw ;  and  't  is  not  railing,  but  straight  truth  to 
say  so.  'T  was  a  face  with  the  mintage  of  Satan  on  it, 
and  many  things  were  made  manifest  to  me  concerning 
the  man  and  his  wicked  deeds." 

"  By  what  name  was  he  known  ?  " 

"Roger  and  Olivia  Prideaux  believed  him  to  be 
Harald  Sandys,  until  he  was  past  putting  to  the  ques 
tion.  I  ever  doubted  it." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  the  Sandys  face  is  one  that  hath  the  thought 
of  God  and  the  fear  of  God  behind  it.  This  man  had 
the  countenance  of  one  who  is  wicked  both  of  nature 
and  of  will." 

"What  said  Roger  Prideaux  to  you  of  him?" 

"  He  said  that  he  was  Harald  Sandys.  He  told  me 
the  man  had  been  to  Penrith  on  the  business  of  Charles 
Stuart,  and  had  been  closely  pursued ;  and  that  for  the 
sake  of  human  kindness  he  would  shelter  him  until  the 
ship  he  waited  for  arrived." 

"What  thought  you?" 

"  I  thought  that  the  Sandys  were  well  all  dead  if  this 
man  stood  in  their  likeness.  But  he  was  none  of  their 
kind." 

"How  did  you  discover  that?" 

"First,  by  my  own  wisdom  taught  of  Best  Wisdom. 
Second,  't  was  Anastasia  de  Burg  discovered  me  so  much 
of  her  affairs.  She  came  to  Sandys  on  the  2pth  of  Fifth 
Month,  and  at  her  first  calling  stayed  not  long.  Yet 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  153 

she  went  away  in  a  great  passion  with  Nathaniel  Kel- 
der.  'T  was  my  place  to  be  on  the  watch,  and  I  heard 
her  threaten  him  with  her  own  wrath,  and  also  with 
the  wrath  of  the  man  he  ordered  from  the  house ; 
and  I  heard  her  call  that  man  John  de  Burg,  and  with 
his  name  make  good  her  threat." 

Then  Stephen  de  Burg  rose  in  a  fury  of  passion. 
"  Will  your  Worship,"  he  cried,  looking  to  Judah  Parke, 
"  restrain  the  lying  speech  of  this  pestilent  rogue  ?  John 
de  Burg  in  a  Quaker's  house?  Yes,  when  the  Devil 
drinks  holy  water.  And  I  count  it  but  scant  kindness 
in  my  neighbours  to  suffer  this  reproach  in  my  presence. 
For  as  the  Devil  hates  the  Cross,  so  I  hate  John  de  Burg 
and  all  his  deeds.  And  I  will  take  oath  that  I  have  not 
seen  his  face  these  twenty  years,  nor  wish  to  see  it  again 
all  the  days  of  my  life.  And  I  will  take  oath  that  it  is 
an  incredible  thing  he  should  be  under  my  roof,  even 
for  one  night.  Call  the  witness  of  my  eight  servants 
and  of  my  many  guests." 

"  I  perceive  not,"  said  Elijah  Waring,  "  what  it  would 
advantage  Roger  Prideaux  to  put  John  de  Burg  in  the 
place  of  Harald  Sandys.  The  latter,  though  an  offender 
against  the  law,  is  at  least  an  offender  with  clean  hands, 
having  the  plea  of  honourable  conviction  in  his  breaking 
of  the  law.  John  de  Burg,  with  red  hands,  has  broken 
not  only  the  law  of  God,  but  the  law  of  every  nation  on 
the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  On  my  soul !  the  advantage  is  plain  enough.  Harald 
Sandys,  being  cousin  to  the  late  lord,  is  heir-at-law  of 
the  estate  bought  by  the  Quaker  Prideaux.  John  de 
Burg  is  outlawed  of  all  estate.  And  't  is  within  my 
knowledge  that  Prideaux  was  borrowing  money  to  give 
Harald  Sandys.  \Vho  so  blind  as  not  to  perceive  that 
when  the  heir  had  been  disposed  of  for  a  time  the  old 


154  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

rogue  would  sell  Sandys  and  realize  again  the  guineas 
he  had  spent  upon  its  purchase  ?  Oh  !  't  was  a  very 
Quaker-like  plot,  and  I  make  no  doubt  your  Worships 
see  it." 

"  Think  you  't  was  for  money  Harald  Sandys  visited 
Prideaux?" 

"  Never  trust  me  if  I  see  not  the  truth  clear  behind 
all  pretences.  Charles  Stuart  wanting  an  emissary  to  the 
Quakers,  mutinous  under  their  deserved  punishments, 
naturally  sends  Sandys,  who  knows  well  this  corner  of 
Westmoreland,  the  nesting-place  of  this  Devil's  doctrine  ; 
and  Sandys  naturally  applies  himself  to  the  Quaker,  so 
conveniently  placed  both  for  his  own  rights  and  for  those 
of  the  king  —  that  was.  And  further,  Edward  D'Acre 
can  testify  that  the  guest  of  Roger  Prideaux  was  truly 
Sandys.  Also  offer  Prideaux  and  his  man  Asa  Bevin  the 
oath  of  allegiance,  and  see  if  they  will  take  it ;  I  vow 
they  will  not." 

"There  is  no  need  of  any  further  evidence,"  said  Par 
son  Derby.  "  The  case  against  Prideaux  is  fully  proved." 

"  It  is  most  certain,"  added  Parke.  "  Nevertheless 
he  shall  have  every  show  of  justice.  He  shall  speak  for 
himself.  Let  Roger  Prideaux  be  sworn  to  his  own 
words." 

"  I  have  not  been  given  anything  to  say  in  this  matter. 
My  daughter  has  witnessed  for  me.  She  spoke  the 
truth." 

"Then,"  said  Parke,  "Roger  Prideaux  must  be  sent 
to  Appleby  jail  for  trial  at  the  next  general  assize ;  and  if 
Asa  Bevin  take  not  the  oath  of  allegiance,  he  must  also 
go  upon  that  failure." 

"  I  am  an  honest  lover  of  the  Commonwealth,"  an 
swered  Asa,  "  but  I  will  not  swear  to  it  at  thy  command ; 
for  the  words  of  Christ,  as  I  have  told  thee  already,  are 


THE  KINGS  SERVANTS.  155 

positive  regarding  oath-taking,  — '  Swear  not  at  all,'  and  I 
will  not  make  light  of  them  to  give  thy  words  honour. 
Not  I,  indeed  !  " 

"  Then  you  send  yourself  to  prison." 

"  Nay,  but  thou  sendest  me,  because  I  will  not  sell 
my  conscience  for  a  mess  of  pottage." 

Then  the  clerk  began  to  write  out  the  necessary  papers 
of  commitment,  and  the  petty  court  rose,  the  magis 
trates  and  citizens  forming  into  little  groups  eagerly  full 
of  the  same  subject,  —  the  plotting  of  the  Quakers  against 
the  Commonwealth,  and  their  obstinacy  in  their  own 
opinions. 

De  Burg  and  his  party  drew  together  with  a  sense  of 
triumph.  Parson  Derby  wished  only  that  "  there  were 
jails  enough  in  England  to  send  every  Quaker  to  the 
Devil  through  them  ;  "  and  a  Calvinist  preacher,  standing 
by,  certified  the  wish  with  a  quotation  from  the  devout 
and  learned  Richard  Baxter,  dooming  all  Quakers,  "  with 
out  reserve,  to  certain  perdition."  De  Burg  himself  was 
sullenly  angry.  He  hated  his  name  and  affairs  in  the 
mouth  of  "  the  villain  crowd,"  and  his  heart  was  burning 
with  wrath  against  Anastasia  and  the  Kelders.  He  stood 
by  the  side  of  Sir  Edward  le  Tall,  saying  nothing  to  him, 
but  assuring  his  savagely  offended  inner  man  of  reprisals 
hardly  to  be  accomplished  without  some  devilish  help. 

Le  Tall,  De  Burg,  and  Parson  Derby  quickly  left  the 
room ;  Anastasia  lingered  a  little  behind.  She  had  re 
ceived  one  look  from  her  father  promissory  of  what  was 
yet  to  come,  and  it  roused  in  her  a  desire  to  pay  some 
one  in  advance.  Drawing  up  her  gloves  and  setting  all 
her  bravery  in  order,  she  strolled  past  Asa  Bevin.  He 
was  standing  in  charge  of  a  constable,  waiting  the  written 
order  for  his  commitment,  and  she  regarded  him  with 
eyes  of  malicious  triumph. 


156  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Have  I  done  what  I  promised  to  do?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  Devil  through  thee  hath  done  what  he  was  per 
mitted  to  do.  His  servants  never  want  work,  but  he  pays 
ill  wages,  Anastasia  de  Burg.  Seek  thee  a  better  master." 

In  a  moment  Chenage  struck  him,  and  the  old  man 
fell  to  the  floor.  Olivia,  whose  face  was  on  her  father's 
breast,  saw  nothing  of  the  circumstance,  but  as  Anas 
tasia  turned  she  met  the  full  gaze  of  Nathaniel  Kelder. 
What  shame  for  her  there  was  in  it !  His  eyes  burned 
her  somewhere  beyond  mortal  touch.  She  dropped  her 
own  to  escape  the  piercing  glance  that  made  her  blush 
and  quiver  with  an  intolerable  chagrin ;  and  though  she 
held  her  head  high,  her  laugh  was  uneasy,  and  her  spirit 
cowered  before  him  and  was  glad  to  escape  his  presence. 

The  upper  part  of  the  room  was  then  almost  empty, 
but  there  was  a  crush  of  delaying  gossips  around  the  en 
trance.  Suddenly  a  man  taller  than  any  around  him  ap 
peared,  and  they  instantly  parted  right  and  left  and 
made  a  path  for  him.  He  had  a  fair,  large,  radiant  face, 
and  a  carriage  full  of  authority.  He  went  straight  to 
Prideaux  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Friend  Roger,  I  have  just  heard  of  thy  trouble. 
How  is  it  with  thee  in  the  storm?" 

"  It  rages  all  around  me,  but  not  above  me." 

"  The  soul  has  two  houses,  Roger,  —  one  in  the 
meadows,  that  is  Love ;  one  in  the  mountains,  that  is 
Faith.  Flee  now  to  the  mountains ;  from  thence  cometh 
thy  help.  Olivia,  my  dear  daughter,  Jenifer  Waring  waits 
for  thee.  Shall  I  take  thee  to  her?  " 

"  I  will  take  her,"  said  Nathaniel. 

"  Thou  art  a  good,  brave  man.  I  thought  that  of  thee 
at  the  first.  Wait  for  me  outside.  I  have  a  special  word 
for  thee." 

Then  Olivia  knew  that  the   moment  of  parting  had 


THE  KING'S  SERVANTS.  157 

come ;  but  she  filled  its  little  space  with  a  whisper  of 
vastest  comfort.  And  so  they  said  farewell  like  those 
who  trust  in  God ;  the  ring  of  faith  in  their  voices,  the 
smile  of  hope  on  their  lips. 

Many  looked  at  the  lovers  as  they  walked  through  the 
room  and  down  the  steps  together,  Nathaniel  very  erect, 
yet  holding  Olivia's  hand  with  a  tender  pride  that  si 
lenced  every  unkind  word  At  the  door  they  found  Je 
nifer  Waring  waiting  in  her  coach  for  Olivia,  and  she 
received  her  with  a  sober  kindness  that  the  most  timid 
must  have  trusted. 

"  Olivia  Prideaux  will  find  shelter  in  my  house  so  long 
as  she  wishes,"  she  said  to  Nathaniel ;  and  then  she 
gathered  her  in  her  arms,  and  gave  the  word  which  sep 
arated  the  sorrowful  lovers. 

In  the  mean  time  Roger  was  rapidly  giving  Fox  the 
points  upon  which  his  accusation  hung,  and  Fox  was  lis 
tening  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  already  knew  them. 

"  These  things  I  will  care  for,  Roger,"  he  answered. 
"  In  the  will  of  God  thou  must  go  now  as  he  makes  way. 
It  seems  then  that  thou  art  wanted  at  Appleby  jail.  See 
thou  kindlest  a  fire  there  and  leave  it  burning.  And 
verily  I  know  that  God  keeps  for  his  people  in  prison 
consolations'  such  as  he  gives  nowhere  else.  On  the 
bare  ground  I  have  had  sweet  sleep  ;  and  in  the  midnight 
God's  comforting  presence  has  awakened  me,  and  con 
tinued  with  me  unto  the  morning  watch.  Thy  enemies 
are  his  enemies.  Verily,  he  will  arise  and  scatter  them. 
And  of  thy  bitterest  cup  thou  shalt  say  joyfully,  '  My  God 
is  the  portion  of  it.'  " 

"  George,  thy  words  are  strong  to  lean  upon.  Say  a 
few  to  Asa  Bevin." 

Asa  was  just  rising  from  the  floor,  and  still  dazed  and 
trembling  with  the  shock  of  the  blow. 


158  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  George,  is  it  thee  ?    I  have  been  struck." 

"  Well,  then,  Asa,  thy  Lord  Christ  was  also  struck  and 
buffeted.  He  knows  all  about  the  pain  and  the  shame. 
Fear  not." 

"  I  fear  nothing  that  man  can  do  unto  me.     Not  I  !  " 

"There  is  a  hard  road  before  thee." 

"  I  see  His  footsteps  on  it." 

"  And  a  steep  road,  shelving  down  even  to  the  depths 
of  the  grave." 

"  I  lean  upon  the  Cross.  A  good  staff !  It  will  never 
fail  me." 

"  Farewell,  Asa  !  I  have  been  given  to  see  that  we 
shall  meet  no  more  in  this  world." 

"  Well,  then,  George,  it  is  a  good  farewell ;  "  and  step 
ping  forward,  and  lifting  up  his  hands,  palms  outward, 
he  said,  "  Bear  witness  that  for  all  the  mercies  I  have 
received  I  praise  and  magnify  my  God  ! " 

The  old  man  was  at  this  moment  beautiful.  The 
shining  of  the  Light  within  transfigured  him ;  and,  like 
Stephen  of  old,  his  face  was  like  "  the  face  of  an 
angel."  The  spirit  mastered  the  flesh,  and  George  Fox 
saw  not  the  outer  but  the  inner  man. 

So  Roger  Prideaux  and  Asa  Bevin  went  that  day  to 
Appleby  jail,  but  the  Lord  went  with  them. 


IX. 

THE   BARON   AND   ANASTASIA. 

"  He  that  hateth  suretiship  is  sure." 

"  For  the  good  angel  will  keep  him  company,  and  his  journey  shall  be 
prosperous,  and  he  shall  return  safe." 

"  Where  the  Devil  cannot  go,  he  sends  a  woman." 

T  T  AVING  seen  Olivia  depart  with  Jenifer  Waring, 
-*-  •*•  Nathaniel  waited  for  Fox  at  the  door  of  the  Town 
Hall.  He  came  to  him  with  Roger  and  Asa,  and  the 
short,  sharp  parting  of  the  four  men  was  made  in  the 
passing.  Then  Fox  said,  "  Come,  Nathaniel,  thou  hath 
now  no  time  for  delay ;  "  and  as  they  walked  together  to 
the  Crown  Inn,  and  while  Nathaniel  packed  his  saddle 
bag,  Fox  urged  upon  him  the  necessity  of  an  immediate 
journey  to  London. 

"  Thou  must  truly  go  home  and  get  thy  father's  author 
ity  to  act  in  this  place,  but  thou  must  not  otherwise  linger 
a  moment.  It  is  within  my  knowledge  that  Stephen  and 
Anastasia  de  Burg  intend  to  leave  England,  and  that  at 
the  first  hour  possible." 

"  Who  has  told  you  so,  George?  " 

"  Who  ?  Dost  thou  think  God  has  no  way  of  speaking 
but  through  the  lips  of  a  man?  I  tell  thee  their  secret 
chambers  have  been  seen  by  me,  and  my  ears  have  heard 
the  false  words  they  have  whispered  together.  Ride  as, 
swiftly  as  the  best  horses  can  carry  thee,  and  spare  not 
thine  own  strength,  for  thy  urgency  in  this  matter  may 
Under  great  sorrow  to  thy  father  and  mother." 


I6O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

11  My  father  did  a  noble  kindness  for  the  love  of  God  and 
kindred.  I  think,  then,  that  God  will  guard  him  in  it." 

"  God  gives  us  good  things  with  our  own  hands.  If  he 
wills  thee  to  be  providence  to  thy  parents  he  does  thee  a 
great  honour.  Dispute  not  with  him  concerning  it.  And 
take  no  half-word  from  Cromwell;  stand  stanchly  by  thy 
case  and  thou  wilt  win  it." 

"  I  think  my  father  is  such  a  man  as  will  stand  to  his 
promise,  though  it  bring  him  to  ruin." 

"  I  think  that  also,  if  this  were  an  honest  agreement 
between  man  and  man,  but  it  is  the  plotting  of  the  wicked 
against  the  merciful  and  righteous ;  and  as  the  wind  sown 
came  out  of  their  granary,  thou  must  do  thy  part  to  make 
them  reap  the  whirlwind.  Farewell,  Nathaniel."  And 
the  lofty  confidence  of  the  man's  soul  gave  to  his  majestic 
person  an  authority  so  pronounced  that  Nathaniel  felt  it 
impossible  either  to  dispute  the  wisdom  or  to  doubt  the 
result  of  the  order  given  him. 

So  he  left  Kendal  at  a  hard  gallop,  and  as  he  neared 
the  sea  he  began  to  feel  the  daring  that  the  good  salt  wind 
blew  into  his  nostrils.  Then  his  heart  burned  with  the 
injustice  and  bigotry  he  had  witnessed,  and  he  was  blame 
lessly  angry  at  the  ingratitude  which  compelled  him  not 
only  to  take  back  a  kindness,  but  also  to  leave  the  woman 
he  loved,  in  her  sorrow  and  loneliness,  and  undergo  the 
annoyance  and  loss  of  a  long  and  weariful  journey.  But 
while  the  sun  dropped  in  tired  splendour  below  the  hori 
zon,  and  the  stars  moved  along  the  edges  of  the  hills,  and 
the  hills  grew  larger  in  the  twilight,  and  all  Nature  seemed 
to  be  lying  asleep  in  the  diffused  silence  and  dusk,  he 
gathered  strength  for  the  task  with  every  mile  he  rode ; 
for  he  felt  the  presence  of  God  in  that  communion  which 
is  the  peace  and  power  of  the  spirit. 

It  was  so  late  when  he  reached  Kelderby  that  all  the 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTAS1A.  l6l 

household  were  in  bed.  But  the  baron  was  not  asleep ; 
he  heard  the  gallop  of  Nathaniel's  horse  while  he  was  a 
good  way  off,  and  he  rose  and  opened  the  door  and  met 
his  son  on  the  threshold.  The  two  men  went  into  the 
dark  house  together,  and  for  some  minutes  were  fully  oc 
cupied  in  getting  a  light  and  in  replenishing  the  fire,  for 
the  nights  on  that  bleak  coast  were  generally  chill  and 
damp  enough  to  warrant  a  blazing  log. 

While  they  were  thus  engaged  Lady  Kelder  entered. 
She  was  desirous  to  see  that  Nathaniel's  physical  wants 
were  attended  to,  but  she  had  also  an  anxious  curiosity 
about  the  trial.  As  the  baron  lifted  himself  from  the 
hearth,  and  Nathaniel  transferred  the  blaze  from  the 
brimstone-tipped  pine  sliver  to  the  candle,  she  said, — 

"  How  went  the  trial,  Nathaniel?" 

"  As  Roger's  enemies  had  preordained,  Mother.  They 
have  sent  him  to  Appleby  jail." 

"  Indeed,  I  see  not  how  they  could  have  done  different. 
Magistrates  must  go  upon  evidence." 

"  They  sent  Asa  Bevin  there  also." 

"  Like  master,  like  man.  I  make  no  doubt  Asa  was 
equally  guilty." 

"  Roger  put  human  kindness  before  human  prudence  ; 
Asa  put  the  law  of  God  before  the  commands  of  Judah 
Parke.  I  see  no  other  fault  in  the  men." 

"  Are  you  also  become  a  Quaker?  " 

"  I  would  that  my  religion  were  like  theirs,  —  heart- 
thorough,  inside  and  outside  alike.  Roger  Prideaux  is 
a  man  who  has  a  perfect  heart  toward  God." 

"  A  perfect  heart ! "  ejaculated  the  baron  in  a  low 
voice.  "A  perfect  heart !  Oh,  finest  of  wares  !  " 

''•  And  what  is  done  with  the  girl?  Did  she  give  evi 
dence  against  her  father?  If  she  did,  I  think  nothing 
of  her." 

ii 


1 62  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  She  told  the  truth.  She  could  do  no  less  and  be 
innocent." 

"  Faith  !  When  my  father  was  in  hiding  for  Non-con 
formity,  I  would  have  bit  out  my  tongue  ere  I  had  made 
his  enemies  as  wise  as  myself.  I  would,  surely  !  Yea,  I 
would  have  misled  them  rather  than  have  sent  my  father 
to  prison,  —  which,  indeed,  is  mostly  the  same  as  a  warrant 
of  death." 

"  Olivia  obeyed  the  desire  of  her  father.  He  said  to 
her,  '  Truth  can  do  without  a  lie.  Do  not  even  look  one.' 
But  I  have  come  home  in  this  hurry  on  our  own  special 
business."  Then  he  repeated  what  George  Fox  had  told 
him,  and  urged  upon  his  father  an  instant  attention  to 
such  writing  as  was  necessary  to  enable  him  again  to  act 
for  both. 

The  baron  heard  him  with  a  strange  restlessness.  He 
rose  before  Nathaniel's  message  was  all  given,  and  went 
to  the  window  and  looked  into  the  darksome  garden. 
Lady  Kelder's  face  reddened  with  an  eager  flush,  and  she 
answered  promptly,  — 

"  For  once  a  Quaker  has  spoken  words  with  some  wis 
dom  in  them.  You  had  better  leave  at  dawn,  Nathaniel. 
I  have  already  called  Jael,  and  she  will  prepare  such 
things  as  you  need.  There  are  still  some  hours  in  which 
you  may  rest  and  sleep." 

"  Mother,  I  will  leave  at  once,  —  unless  my  father  wills 
to  interfere  no  further  in  the  matter." 

Then  the  baron  turned  sharply  and  said,  "  I  will  go  to 
London  myself.  Joan,  dear  heart,  have  my  best  velvet 
suit  and  my  flemish  laces  put  up,  with  such  other  things 
as  are  necessary.  I  am  well  able  for  the  journey,  and 
before  dawn  I  can  be  near  to  Lancaster." 

"  Odinel !  Odinel !  You  shall'not  leave  me.  Let  Na 
thaniel  go.  He  did  well  before.  He  is  quite  sufficient." 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  163 

"You  are  unreasonable,  Jodn.  All  day  you  have 
fretted  in  your  heart  at  me ;  you  have  made  constant 
moan  for  Kelderby ;  you  have  wished  that  you  were  only 
a  man,  that  you  might  say  one  word  to  save  it.  Now, 
then,  have  my  bag  filled  ;  for  I  tell  you  surely  that  with  it, 
or  without  it,  I  will  leave  Kelderby  for  London  in  thirty 
minutes." 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,  Father." 

"  Nay,  I  will  do  this  thing  alone,  going  in  the  strength 
of  my  God,  Nathaniel." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  go,  Father?  " 

"  My  wish  is  to  stay  out  of  the  world,  and  't  is  a  cross 
indeed  to  face  the  strife  and  struggle  of  it  again.  But  I 
fear  not ;  for  as  I  stood  by  the  window  I  heard  with  my 
inward  ear  the  voice  I  waited  for,  and  it  said,  '  Go.  If 
I  send,  do  I  ever  fail  thee  therein  ?  '  " 

It  was  impossible  further  to  gainsay  by  a  word  or  a  look 
the  purpose  of  the  man.  With  the  rapid  energy  of  years 
past  by  he  began  to  select  such  papers  as  he  wanted,  and 
to  count  out  gold  for  the  necessities  of  the  journey.  The 
few  words  he  spoke  to  Nathaniel  about  the  horse  he 
wished  were  so  curt  and  positive  that  Lady  Kelder  made 
no  more  remonstrance.  She  saw  again  the  masterful 
leader,  the  man  who  in  camp  or  court  had  always  stood 
for  the  rights  of  others,  and  also  held  his  own.  As  he 
impatiently  changed  his  chamber-gown  and  felt  slippers 
for  long  jack-boots  and  a  buff  leather  jerkin,  and  fastened 
round  his  shoulders  the  heavy  cloth  cloak  that  he  had 
worn  on  many  a  midnight  watch,  Lady  Kelder  caught  the 
spirit  of  her  husband,  and  she  hasted  with  willing  hands 
the  special  preparations  which  fell  naturally  to  her 
ordering. 

So  when  the  horse  was  brought  to  the  door,  and  the 
baron,  ready  for  the  journey,  stood  by  his  wife's  side,  say- 


164  FRIEND    OLIVIA. 

ing  the  bra.vest  and  kindest  words  he  could  find  in  his 
brave,  kind  heart,  she  answered  them  hopefully,  keeping 
back  tears,  and  crowning  her  kiss  with  a  tender  smile. 
And  after  all,  the  hurried  parting  is  the  best  parting. 
'T  is  doubtful  if  any  one  —  even  lovers  —  do  well  to  pro 
long  their  sweet  sorrow.  Emotion  is  weakened  by  every 
moment  of  time  it  covers,  just  as  water  spread  over  the 
valley  is  shallow,  but  pent  in  one  deep  channel  becomes 
a  driving  force. 

Kelder  had  chosen  a  fleet  hunter  to  take  him  the  first 
stage  of  his  journey,  and  the  animal  soon  carried  him  be 
yond  the  echoes  of  its  beating  hoofs.  Then  Nathaniel 
and  Lady  Kelder  went  back  to  the  parlour  and  sat  down 
together.  She  was  still  under  the  influence  of  the  baron's 
heroic  mood,  and  as  she  sat  gazing  into  the  fire  her  face 
grew  soft  and  loving  and  her  heart  glowed  again  with  the 
long- forgotten  pride  she  had  felt  for  the  husband  of 
her  youth. 

"  Your  father  has  taken  us  by  storm,  Nathaniel.  For  a 
long  time  I  have  not  seen  him  so  much  like  himself. 
Now,  pray  resolve  me  truly  if  we  are  like  to  lose  Kelderby. 
Or  think  you  this  journey  may  be  its  ransom?  " 

"  I  think  that  my  father's  journey  will  save  Kelderby." 

"  But  if  it  does,  then  there  is  this  affair  of  the  Quaker 
Prideaux." 

"  My  father  hath  no  hand  in  that." 

"  But  you  have.  And  what  good  is  it  if  the  fire  that  is 
quenched  in  the  chimney  be  scattered  about  the  floor? 
Oh,  Nathaniel !  Nathaniel !  if  you  would  be  wise  and  re 
sign  a  girl  who  has  brought  you  and  is  only  like  to  bring 
trouble.  Ill  fortune  is  catching  as  the  small-pox;  why 
should  you  take  trouble  from  a  stranger?" 

"  Trouble  springs  not  from  the  ground,  Mother,  for 
'  man  is  born  unto  trouble,  as  the  sparks  fly  upward.' 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  165 

But  why  inquire  of  the  future  ?  T  is  like  going  into  a 
warfare  for  which  no  weapon  is  provided.  God  is  a  pres 
ent  help.  And  't  is  easily  seen  that  we  have  present  ills 
in  plenty,  without  forecasting  those  not  yet  here.  The 
ingratitude  of  our  cousin  De  Burg  —  " 

"  Is  what  I  expected.  Nothing  grows  old  sooner  than 
a  kindness." 

"  We  have  never  done  aught  but  good  to  De  Burg,  and 
he  has  returned  us  tenfold  evil." 

"  Well,  then,  to  every  evil-doer  his  evil  day ;  and  as 
for  this  Roger  Prideaux  —  " 

"  He  is  a  good  man,  Mother.  But  the  world  likes  its 
own,  and  Roger  is  not  among  the  number." 

"  Roger,  like  others  of  the  trading-class  who  have  been 
aggrandized  by  the  ruin  of  better  men  than  themselves, 
cannot  let  affairs  too  high  for  him  alone.  He  must  be 
patron  to  Sandys  or  De  Burg,  and  now  he  has  to  eat  the 
husk  of  their  evil  speech.  And  as  for  this  saint,  Olivia, 
she  is  better  than  what  is  either  written  or  called  for. 
Her  father  is  little  indebted  to  her  extravagant  goodness." 

"  Nothing,  not  even  martyrdom,  could  prevent  Olivia 
speaking  the  plain  truth.  It  is  a  necessity  of  her  nature." 

"  Indeed,  I  think  martyrdom  a  very  poor  test  of  truth. 
Men  suffer  half  the  time,  not  for  their  convictions,  but  to 
gratify  their  stubbornness.  Nine  out  of  ten  would  rather 
yield  their  lives  than  their  tempers.  That  is  the  nature 
of  Englishmen,  as  't  is  the  nature  of  English  dogs.  Oh  ! 
I  can  tell  you,  Nathaniel,  the  Devil  lurks  often  behind  the 
Cross." 

"  Dear  mother,  as  to  this  world  the  Quakers  get  noth 
ing  and  lose  everything." 

"They  get  their  own  way.  Is  there  really  anything 
more  gratifying?  " 

"  They  are  truly  conscientious." 


1 66  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  About  trivialities,  yes,  —  as  to  wearing  of  hats  and 
speaking  as  no  one  else  does,  and  the  like ;  picking  up 
the  most  insignificant  questions  with  their  conscience, 
instead  of  their  common-sense.  That  is  .their  righteous 
way  of  walking  over  people's  heads." 

"  'T  is  a  way  of  righteous  self-denial." 

"  Yes,  and  they  like  it.  After  all,  Nathaniel,  it  is  easier 
to  deny  sinful-self  than  righteous-self." 

"  We  talk  to  no  purpose,  Mother,  and  I  am  strangely 
tired." 

Then  they  both  arose  and  Nathaniel  gave  her  his  arm 
up  the  dark  stairs.  He  had  a  candle  in  one  hand,  but  its 
faint  light  only  made  the  thick  gloom  more  visible  and 
portentous.  They  looked  like  two  figures  in  a  walking 
sleep,  and  Jael  peeped  after  them  through  the  partly 
opened  door  with  the  feeling  that  she  was  seeing  people 
in  a  dream. 

At  the  same  hour  Anastasia  sat  alone  in  her  chamber, 
slowly  removing  the  rings  and  chains  and  silk  and  laces 
that  enhanced  her  splendid  beauty.  There  had  been  a 
late  supper  and  much  wine-drinking  and  gambling  at 
De  Burg  that  night,  and  she  had  been  the  gayest  in  the 
crowd.  She  had  sung  wondrously  to  her  lute ;  she  had 
danced  a  galliard  with  Le  Tall ;  she  had  played  cribbage, 
and  won  gold  pieces  at  it ;  she  had  queened  it  over  every 
heart,  and  charmed  even  her  father  out  of  his  present 
mood  of  anger.  But  she  was  now  alone,  and  she  was 
really  miserable. 

"  I  am  the  greatest  fool  in  the  three  kingdoms,"  she 
said  bitterly,  as  she  put  the  mirror  at  a  proper  angle  and 
sat  down  before  it.  "  Beauty  !  Yes,  I  have  beauty,  but 
what  is  it  worth?  Do  I  care  if  Le  Tall  and  Chenage 
fight  a  duel  about  me  ?  Nathaniel  scorns  me,  and  any- 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  l6/ 

thing  else  is  beyond  expectation.  Well,  what  I  cannot 
have  I  will  be  dog  enough  to  hinder  Mistress  Prideaux  of, 
—  if  I  can.  But  now  that  I  have  raised  the  storm,  shall 
I  be  able  to  manage  it?  I  have  already  in  its  ordering 
lied  myself  neck-deep,  and  one  lie  breeds  more,  and 
black  lies  have  crimson  fruit.  Chut !  My  heart  surely 
hath  the  bravery  to  perfect  its  own  wishes,  and  my  little 
tongue  never  failed  me  yet."  And  she  put  its  scarlet  tip 
out  and  looked  at  it  steadily.  "  'T  is  as  good  as  a  sword, 
if  one  knows  how  to  use  it." 

Then  she  unlatched  her  shoes  of  red  morocco,  and 
took  the  pins  out  of  her  black  hair,  and  let  its  waving, 
curling  mass  fall  over  her  shoulders  and  bosom.  The 
particularly  picturesque  disorder  it  assumed  arrested  her 
attention.  She  studied  its  forms  for  future  use,  and 
passed  a  ten  minutes  in  fingering  and  recurling  her  favour 
ite  lock.  Then,  noticing  a  number  of  gold  pieces  lying 
loose  upon  the  table,  she  counted  and  put  them  away. 
They  had  been  won  from  Chenage ;  she  recalled  the 
gleam  of  anger  in  his  eyes  as  he  paid  the  debt  of  ill 
chance,  and  she  laughed  softly  as  she  dropped  the  money 
in  its  place. 

"  He  thought  I  cheated  him  !  Faith  !  I  am  in  the 
selfsame  mind.  There  is  a  big  bill  running  up  between 
Chenage  and  me.  Shall  I  be  forced  to  pay  it?  or  will 
he  be  forced  to  lose  it?"  She  rose  with  the  query, 
opened  a  drawer,  and  took  from  it  a  pack  of  cards. 
With  a  slow  intentness  she  shuffled  them  hither  and 
thither,  set  some  aside,  and  cast  out  others.  Then  she 
spread  the  others  before  her,  and  began  to  spell  out 
their  mysteries. 

"  Chenage  is  black  with  anger ;  he  carries  the  trey 
of  spades,  and  the  nine  follows  him.  He  has  a  villain 
heart,  and  I  '11  swear  to  it !  What  is  this  ?  Prison  bars, 


1 68  FRIEND    OLIVIA. 

and  a  great  change,  and  news  from  beyond  seas,  —  and 
tears  in  my  own  breast.  That  last  is  a  lie,  if  all  else 
be  true.  I  am  well  used  to  jade  Fortune's  tricks,  and 
fear  none  of  them."  Yet  she  flung  the  paper  oracles 
at  her  feet,  and  went  to  bed  with  the  shadow  of  her 
own  evil  divination  over  her. 

But  her  sleep  was  not  troubled  by  the  ill  fortune  she 
had  spelled  out  in  her  divining  cards.  Indeed,  she  was 
of  that  class  of  mortals  whose  sleep  is  the  sleep  of  pure 
matter,  and  who  are  very  rarely  visited  by  the  winged 
dreams.  If  her  soul  ever  wandered  afar  on  its  own 
business  or  pleasure,  she  knew  it  not.  It  told  her  noth 
ing  of  what  it  saw.  It  gave  her  neither  warning  nor 
admonition.  She  shut  her  eyes  as  a  tired  animal  does, 
and  thought  nothing  of  the  breathing  mystery  behind 
her  unconscious  rest. 

She  awoke  with  the  influence  of  the  previous  day 
upon  her.  The  triumphs  of  the  trial  with  its  swift  after 
thought  of  worry  and  fear ;  the  feasting  and  dancing  and 
gambling ;  the  sense  of  her  father's  deferred  wrath ; 
the  sense  of  Le  Tail's  half-scornful  admiration,  and  of 
the  almost  savage  earnestness  of  Chenage's  love  and 
anger,  —  these  things  and  their  various  smaller  aids 
struck  her  consciousness  the  moment  it  was  awake  to 
mortal  questions.  They  did  not  daunt  her.  The  bright 
June  sunshine  flooded  the  bed,  and  in  its  glory  she  lay 
in  indolent  satisfaction,  gathering  together  the  tangled 
ends  of  her  affairs,  and  looking  at  them  steadily  in  their 
very  worst  aspects. 

For  every  day  has  its  genius,  and  the  genius  of  this 
day  was  of  an  anxious  questioning  bent.  It  would  not 
suffer  her  to  be  still,  so  she  slipped  out  of  bed  and  be 
gan  the  business  of  her  toilet,  keeping,  by  unconscious 
preference,  in  the  very  brightest  band  of  sunshine.  And 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  169 

as  she  splashed  the  cold  water  over  her  arms  and  face 
and  bosom,  and  brushed  out  her  tangled  curls,  she  was 
busy  enough  with  plans  and  projects  of  safety  and  re 
venge,  yet  not  so  busy  as  to  make  her  negligent  about 
her  personal  adornment. 

Thoughts  troublesome  to  any  woman  —  angry,  jeal 
ous  thoughts  —  went  to  and  fro  in  her  mind,  threaten 
ing,  supposing,  longing,  and  fearing;  but  they  did  not 
prevent  her  studying  the  effect  of  her  broidered  hose 
and  scarlet  shoes,  and  putting  her  pretty  feet  in  every 
position  that  gave  her  a  good  view  of  them.  She  was 
burning  with  indignation  at  Nathaniel,  she  was  full  of 
scorn  for  Olivia,  she  was  sick  at  heart  whenever  she 
thought  of  Chenage ;  but  amid  the  tumult  of  such  cross 
and  vexed  passions  she  found  time  and  interest  to  try 
on  several  petticoats  before  she  decided  that  the  pale 
blue  one  would  show  off  best  the  snowy  sweep  of  her 
long  white  tunic.  Only  a  woman  in  such  a  storm  of 
anxious  feeling  could  have  so  deliberately  arranged  each 
curl  and  plait,  pinched  each  ruffle  of  point  afresh,  turned 
every  crumpled  bow,  studied  before  the  mirror  the  flow 
of  her  garments  and  the  exact  length  of  step  they  re 
quired,  and  yet  throughout  each  trivial  act  considered 
with  a  conscious  method  the  best  way  to  keep  herself  out 
of  the  sorrow  and  ruin  she  would  gladly  work  for  others. 

When  her  toilet  was  completed,  she  went  slowly  down 
the  stairway.  With  her  hand  upon  the  thick,  black 
balustrade,  step  by  step,  she  went  down.  There  was 
a  long,  richly  painted  window  behind  her ;  and  she 
moved  in  the  glory  of  its  many-tinted  lights,  knowing 
well  how  fair  her  white-robed  figure,  with  its  touches  of 
red  and  blue,  looked  in  that  dim  splendour  of  change 
ful  colour.  She  lingered  because  she  hoped  that  Le  Tall 
or  Chenage  might  pass  through  the  hall  and  see  her; 


170  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

for  so  contradictious  is  a  woman's  vanity,  that,  even  when 
a  man  is  troublesomely  in  love,  she  cannot  resist  the 
opportunity  to  make  him  still  more  so. 

However,  she  found  the  house  empty  of  all  company. 
Le  Tall  and  Chenage  had  gone  away  immediately  after 
breakfast,  and  De  Burg  had  betaken  himself  to  the 
meadows  to  watch  the  haymakers. 

"  'T  is  a  moment's  peace,  and  I  thank  my  stars  for 
it,"  she  said  cheerily  to  the  steward.  "  I  will  have  a 
breakfast  to  my  mind,  Martin,  —  a  rustical  breakfast  fit 
for  a  dairymaid.  Bring  me  fresh  eggs,  and  new  milk, 
and  the  manchet  loaf  of  wheat  flour,  and  a  plate  of 
cherries ;  and,  Martin,  I  will  have  the  milk  in  the  china 
bowl  tipped  with  silver,  that  hath  the  Virgin  and  the 
Child  at  the  bottom  of  it.  And  bring  me  a  napkin 
of  fine  diaper,  and  put  that  posy  of  honeysuckles  near 
by  me.  Faith  !  I  shall  taste  the  flowers  in  my  milk!" 
And  Martin,  who  delighted  in  serving  this  handsome, 
well-dressed,  imperiously  pleasant  mistress,  brought  all 
she  wished,  with  a  hasty  officiousness  that  bespoke  his 
willing  service. 

"What  time  was  breakfast  served,  Martin?" 

"An  hour  after  sunrising,  Mistress,  —  and  great  dis 
content  at  your  absence  shown." 

"  Who  was  discontented,  Martin?  "  She  was  chipping 
the  tip  of  an  egg  with  the  greatest  deliberation ;  and  her 
smile  was  so  ravishing  that  if  Martin  had  had  to  break 
every  commandment  to  answer  her,  he  must  needs  have 
pleased  himself  and  have  done  it. 

"  'T  was  Squire  Chenage  the  most,  —  and  the  other 
gentleman  also;  and  the  master  grumbling  for  himself 
and  all." 

"  That  was  like  to  be.  And  pray  what  did  they  break 
their  fast  on?" 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  1 71 

"  I  served  some  ribs  of  cold  roast  beef,  and  a  dish 
of  buttered  salmon,  and  each  a  bottle  of  sack ;  also,  the 
wormwood  wine  at  the  first  of  all." 

"They  would  need  the  wormwood.  I  bless  myself 
that  I  was  absent  from  the  discontented  gentlemen, 
for  I  dearly  love  a  simple  meal,  Martin.  Faith !  I 
think  I  have  the  innocent  tastes  of  a  child  yet.  Cher 
ries  and  milk  are  my  delight."  And  she  lifted  admir 
ingly  a  bunch  of  the  crimson  drupes,  and  laid  them  with 
anticipative  enjoyment  against  her  crimson  lips. 

On  the  whole  she  had  a  pleasant  meal ;  and  when 
it  was  over  she  found  herself  able  to  face  the  day,  —  nay, 
rather  anxious  for  such  encounters  as  it  might  bring  her. 
But  nothing  followed  on  her  "  Come  what  may,  I  am 
ready  for  it."  Fate  was  out  of  hearing,  and  her  chal 
lenge  was  for  some  hours  unanswered.  She  found  it 
difficult  to  fill  them  to  her  satisfaction.  To  be  alone, 
that  was  a  condition  of  ennui  and  weariness  to  her.  She 
tried  playing  shuttlecock ;  but  there  was  no  one  to  see 
her  pretty  attitudes,  and  it  disarranged  her  dress.  Then 
she  practised  the  new  French  step  taught  her  the  pre 
vious  night  by  Le  Tall ;  and  as  she  watched  her  scarlet 
shoes  playing  hide-and-seek  behind  and  before  her 
petticoat,  she  bethought  her  of  Sir  John  Suckling's 
ballad,  and  so,  quoting  it,  made  the  words  keep  the 
rhythm  of  her  motions  :  — 

"  Her  feet  beneath  her  petticoat 
Like  little  mice  stole  in  and  out, 

As  if  they  feared  the  light ; 
But,  oh !  she  dances  such  a  way, 
No  sun  upon  an  Easter  day 

Is  half  so  fine  a  sight ! " 

In  a  little  while  she  wearied  of  her  dancing,  and  took  a 
book.     But  having  no  liking  for  reading,  and  the  volume 


FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

lifted  proving  to  be  Alsted's  "  Encyclopaedia,"  she  soon 
laid  it  down  with  the  impatient  comment,  — 

"  'T  is  the  veriest  nonsense,  I  believe.  If  the  bell  has 
any  sides,  the  clapper  will  find  them ;  and  if  there  was 
any  savour  of  sense  in  the  book,  't  is  to  be  believed  I 
should  hit  upon  something  worth  the  reading." 

Then  she  took  her  finery  and  her  pretty,  gracious 
ways  to  the  housekeeper,  and  asked  what  sweet  waters 
were  making  in  the  still-room,  and  discoursed  about  the 
excellence  of  elderflower  pomade  for  the  skin,  and  even 
condescended  to  inquire  as  to  the  dishes  for  the  day's 
dinner. 

But  all  this  was  but  a  trifling  with  Fate,  and  exceedingly 
unsatisfactory.  She  had  set  herself  to  a  certain  high 
mental  pitch,  anticipating  a  battle  royal  with  her  father, 
and  possibly  with  Chenage ;  and  she  felt  that  there  was 
an  unfortunate  want  of  communication  between  her  mood 
and  its  objects.  As  the  morning  and  the  long,  hot  after 
noon  crept  slowly  away,  her  spirit  flagged ;  she  grew 
fearful  in  the  crowding  thoughts  that  assailed  her,  —  she 
began  to  feel  as  if  something  were  going  to  happen. 

It  was  night,  however,  before  the  slightest  change 
came.  She  had  taken  dinner,  and  was  lying  on  a  sofa, 
idly  touching  the  strings  of  her  lute.  A  song,  "  To  the 
Virgins,  to  make  much  of  Time,"  with  the  notes  at 
tached,  was  beside  her;  and  she  was  singing  it  with  a 
very  listless  air, — 

"  Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a-flying ; 
And  this  same  flower,  that  smiles  to-day, 
To-morrow  will  be  dying." 

De  Burg  entered  at  the  third  line.  He  was  rating  the 
servant  who  followed  him  about  some  household  neg 
lect,  and  he  continued  the  occupation  while  the  man 


THE  BARON  AN1>  ANASTASIA.  173 

took  off  his  heavy  riding-boots  and  clasped  on  his  feet 
shoes  of  more  light  and  easy  make.  He  did  not  notice 
Anastasia ;  and  she  continued  her  melancholy  song,  but 
with  such  a  nervous  hand  that  at  the  word  "  dying " 
a  string  snapped  with  a  sharpness  that  had  something 
ominous  in  it.  Then  she  laid  down  the  lute,  rose  from 
die  sofa,  and  arranged  her  skirts  with  such  elaborate 
care  that  the  petty  interest  irritated  De  Burg;  and  he 
broke  in  two  a  brutal  epithet  he  was  bestowing  upon 
the  servant,  in  order  to  turn  round  and  say,  — 

"  Shake  your  bravery  less,  Mistress ;  you  set  my  teeth 
on  edge." 

She  answered  him  by  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  and 
an  inquiring  stare  which  he  felt  but  would  not  see. 
Then  softly  humming  the  refrain  of  her  interrupted  ditty, 
she  went  hither  and  thither  in  the  darksome  room ; 
shutting  a  casement,  putting  the  encyclopaedia  in  its 
place,  re-arranging  the  honeysuckles  in  their  bowl,  — 
aggravatingly  indifferent  to  all  but  the  trifles  that  caught 
her  passing  glance,  and  quite  conscious  that  the  trailing 
of  her  silk  and  lawn,  and  the  unconcerned  meaning 
less  repetition  of  "  Gather-ye-rose-buds  —  Gather- ye- 
rose-buds  —  Gather-ye-rose-buds,"  was  exasperating  her 
father  to  the  highest  degree. 

"  Light  the  candles,  Jock." 

The  man  was  leaving  the  room,  but  he  turned  back 
to  obey  her  command ;  and  in  the  interval  she  walked 
about  with  her  hands  clasped  behind  her  back,  and  her 
head  lifted  high  to  the  thoughts  gradually  gathering 
passion  in  her  angry,  fearful  heart.  But  she  still  hid 
all  emotion  in  fitful  bars  of  the  same  mournful  mel 
ody  :  "  To-morrow-will-be-dying  —  To-morrow-will-be- 
dying— To  — " 

The  closing  of  the  door  broke  the  word  in  two,  and 


174  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

the  sharp  clash  was  followed  in  a  moment  by  an  order 
just  as  sharp  :  — 

"  Come  here,  Asia  !  " 

She  went  toward  him,  and  stood  by  the  small  table 
holding  the  two  candles.  One  of  her  hands  rested  on 
it ;  she  was  erect  and  watchful,  yet  withal  conscious  of 
that  unconquerable  fear  which  is  the  result  of  a  lifelong 
habit  of  obedience,  founded  upon  traditions  of  absolute 
right. 

"  Asia !  you  have  brewed  a  pretty  kettle  of  broth  for 
me.  I  shall  need  the  Devil's  spoon  to  sup  it  with." 

"  He  is  always  willing  to  lend  it." 

"  To  a  woman,  yes.  But  I  am  not  going  to  sup  the 
broth.  No,  in  faith  !  They  who  brewed  may  borrow. 
I  tell  you,  Kendal  is  in  a  fever  of  discontent  about 
yesterday's  work." 

"  The  Kendal  Quakers,  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  such  men  as  young  Strickland,  who  holds 
Quakers  and  Puritans  and  Royalists,  all  of  them,  at  his 
word.  He  met  me  in  Stricklandgate  this  afternoon,  and 
refused  me  his  hand  on  this  business.  He  said,  more 
over,  that  I  had  been  false  to  my  kindred,  and  false  to 
my  king,  and  false  to  my  honour;  and  that  he  would 
prove  every  charge  at  his  sword's  point.  And  listen, 
Mistress  !  Captain  Bellingham  stood  by  him  !  Heaven 
and  hell !  "  he  shouted,  as  he  rose  and  stamped  his  foot 
to  the  adjuration,  "  I  '11  strangle  both ;  yes,  both  of  them 
with  their  own  blood." 

"  Playing  '  Pistol '  won't  mend  matters,  sir.  Try  to 
understand  yourself,  and  be  reasonable.  'Tis  beyond 
doubt  you  have  been  false  to  Kelder,  and  intend  yet 
more  of  the  same  business.  'Tis  beyond  doubt  that 
men  will  say  you  wrong  your  own  honour  in  wronging 
Kelder's  surety  for  it  j  but  wherein  you  have  been  false 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  175 

to  the  king,  I  see  not.  On  that  quarrel  you  may  stand 
firmly." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  You  see  with  one  eye,  and  I  was  so 
great  a  fool  as  to  let  you  see  for  me.  The  main  count  of 
Strickland's  charge  is,  that  I  have  been  a  traitor  to  King 
Charles  in  that  I  interfered  with  his  messenger." 

"  'T  was  against  Prideaux,  and  not  against  Sandys, 
you  moved.  A  fine  thing  when  nobles  like  Strickland 
stand  up  for  Quakers  !  " 

"  Confusion  to  it  all !  See  you  not  that  if  Sandys 
went  to  Penrith,  he  went  there  only  to  see  one  great 
lord,  who  must  now  lie  under  still  heavier  suspicions. 
And  Prideaux,  though  a  Quaker  serving  the  king's  pur 
pose,  is  a  loyal  man  in  Strickland's  eyes.  He  said  plainly 
to  me  that  an  injury  to  men  doing  the  king's  work 
secretly  was  a  wrong  to  the  king  beyond  pardon.  Fool ! 
fool !  I  never  thought  of  the  matter  in  that  light.  And 
'twas  a  beggarly  return  to  Kelder  for  his  kindness,  — all 
to  serve  a  woman's  jealous  spite.  Fool !  fool !  fool !  " 

"  You  know  best  what  name  fits  you,  sir ;  but  't  was 
not  specially  to  serve  my  spite.  'T  was  because  you  had 
not  humility  to  say, '  Thank  you  very  kindly,  sir,'  to  your 
cousin  Kelder ;  and  because  you  grudged  Sandys  to  the 
Quaker  Prideaux,  and  hoped  to  work  him  out  of  the 
estate,  and  so  make  room  for  De  Burg.  Pray  be  so  far 
honest  with  me.  I  shall  think  no  worse  of  you  for  it." 

"  As  to  Harald  Sandys,  't  was  the  most  unfortunate  of 
names." 

"Then  they  think  surely  it  was  Sandys? " 

"They  would  swear  it,  for  'tis  their  desire.  Sandys 
and  Strickland  have  been  friends  for  generations,  and 
Bellingham  has  with  Sandys  still  closer  ties.  See  you 
not,  then,  how  I  have  offended  them  both  in  their 
personal  and  political  affections?  And  who  would  care 


1/6  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

to  live  in  Kendal  with  Strickland  and  Bellingham  for 
enemies?  As  well  live  in  Rome,  and  strive  with  the 
Pope." 

"  Tell  them  the  truth,  if  you  think  it  needful." 

"  Tell  them  that  an  honourable  name  like  Sandys  was 
used  to  shield  a  villain  like  John  !  They  would  either  of 
them  stab  me  with  the  words  in  my  mouth ;  and,  by  my 
soul !  't  would  serve  me  right." 

He  was  walking  the  floor  in  a  fury  of  distracted  pas 
sions,  and  Anastasia,  white  with  physical  terror,  watched 
him  with  a  sense  of  'hopelessness  of  which  she  had  never 
before  been  conscious.  What  could  she  do  or  say  to 
undo  what  she  had  said  and  done?  Nothing.  And 
as  for  all  her  personal  enchantments,  in  that  hour  she 
learned  how  impotent  they  were  against  the  impregnable 
principles  of  honour  and  gratitude  and  inflexible  justice. 
The  defection  of  Bellingham  smote  her  on  every  side. 
She  had  believed  her  influence  over  him  to  be  absolute. 
She  could  scarcely  credit  his  desertion  until  she  remem 
bered  that  he  had  not  called  to  see  her  after  he 
heard  of  Prideaux's  prosecution.  She  feared  Chenage ; 
she  liked  the  gay-hearted  Bellingham,  and  had  always 
regarded  him  as  the  final  resort  if  her  circumstances 
became  beyond  her  own  management.  To  lose  his  love 
was  to  lose  her  anchor ;  she  had  the  sense  of  drifting  on 
stormy  waves,  rolling  hither  and  thither  to  the  passionate 
bluster  of  De  Burg's  anger  and  mortification. 

"  Only  one  course  is  now  left,  Asia." 

"To  go  to  the  king?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  am  ready  at  any  hour." 

"  You  ?     It  is  impossible  now  to  take  you." 

She  turned  as  if  she  had  been  suddenly  struck,  her 
face  expressing  the  same  anger  and  astonishment. 


THE  BARON  AND  Ai\7ASTASIA.  I'J'J 

"What  then?" 

"  You  must  marry  Chenage." 

«I — will —  not !  " 

"  You  will !     And  that  with  all  convenient  speed." 

A  shrill  cry  smote  her  lips  apart.  "  Father  !  father  ! 
hear  me  !  " 

"  I  have  heard  you  to  my  ruin." 

"  Let  me  go  with  you.  I  will  bear  anything,  every 
thing."  She  stepped  to  his  side  and  laid  her  head 
against  his  breast.  Her  distress  was  real  and  he  felt 
it ;  but  he  had  no  comfort  to  give  her.  Not  unkindly, 
but  with  a  positive  firmness,  he  withdrew  himself  from 
her  embrace. 

"  Asia,  meet  your  fate  like  a  brave  woman.  You  have 
called  it  unto  you." 

"  Let  me  at  least  have  the  reasons  for  my  fate.  Good 
God  !  how  careless  you  are  of  my  happiness." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  when  you  bartered  your  happiness 
for  revenge  't  was  your  own  bargain.  This  considered, 
shall  I  care  for  what  you  are  reckless  of  ? " 

"  Anything  but  Chenage  !  I  fear  him.  I  fear  that 
gray,  lonely  house  among  the  mountains.  Oh,  father  !  I 
have  seen  my  misery  in  his  eyes.  Spare  me  !  " 

"  There  is  no  other  way.  I  must  abroad  at  the  first 
hour.  Where  am  I  to  get  the  gold?  Only  from  Chen- 
age.  I  owe  him  much  already,  and  he  is  willing  to 
cancel  all,  willing  to  give  me  two  hundred  pounds  for 
my  expenses  the  day  you  are  his  wife.  Fix  that  day 
now.  '  T  is  the  only  favour  I  can  grant  you." 

"  I  will  not  be  so  cruel  to  myself.  Father !  dear 
father !  " 

"  You  cannot  kiss  me  out  of  concessions,  Anastasia. 
The  only  way  to  save  De  Burg  is  to  be  before  Strick 
land.  When  the  king  comes  to  his  own  he  will  have  so 

12 


178  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

many  to  right  that  any  excuse  will  serve  to  pass  some 
of  the  many  by.  A  word  from  Strickland  and  he  would 
take  my  rights,  to  right  some  other  man." 
"  Sell  the  plate,  — sell  all  my  jewels." 
"  Tell  all  and  sundry  that  I  am  going  ?  Set  old  and 
young  Kelder  to  watch  my  movements,  and  have  me  put 
under  lock  and  key?  Asia,  you  brewed  this  cup,  drink 
as  you  have  brewed.  Chenage  is  as  fine  a  gentleman  as 
England  breeds.  He  is  rich  and  he  loves  you,  and  faith  ! 
you  have  often  lead  him  to  believe  that  you  returned  his 
love.  If  you  play  with  fire  do  not  wonder  if  you  get 
burnt." 

"  I  shall  do  my  best  to  make  him  wretched." 
"  If  you   try  that    game  with  Chenage  you  will   get 
beat  at  it.     I  thought  it  was  he  that  was  to  make  you 
wretched.     To  say  truth,  't  will  be  six  for  him,  and  half 
a  dozen  for  you." 

"  I  will  run  away  from  him,  and  come  to  you." 
There  was  an  inquiry  in  her  eyes  which  De  Burg  could 
rot  meet.  It  said  so  plainly,  "  If  I  do,  will  you  shelter 
me  ?  ''  He  turned  to  the  sideboard,  poured  out  a  glass 
of  French  spirits  and  drank  it.  A  few  minutes  of  silence 
followed.  Anastasia  went  to  the  sofa  and  sat  down. 
The  hopeless  droop  of  her  handsome  head  was  but  the 
outward  sign  of  a  far  more  terrible  hopelessness  of  heart. 
There  are  possibilities  for  women  in  these  days  that 
were  impossibilities  two  hundred  years  ago.  Marriage 
was  then  a  final  act ;  no  one  regarded  any  divorce  but 
that  of  death  as  either  practical  or  potential.  Flight  in 
any  direction,  or  for  any  purpose,  was  accompanied  by 
dangers  so  various  that  -an  ordinary  spirit  could  not  con 
template  it  without  despair.  Public  opinion  was  abso 
lutely  on  the  side  of  the  worst  husband.  Whether  the 
marriage  ring  was  a  chain  or  an  ornament,  society  de- 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  1/9 

manded  from  a  woman  all  the  obedience  to  its  obliga 
tions  which  was  promised  by  the  very  act  of  wearing  it. 

These  thoughts,  and  many  like  them,  passed  through 
Anastasia's  mind  with  the  rapidity  and  vividness  of  a  flash 
of  lightning ;  and  they  had,  as  a  sad  accompaniment,  her 
keen  disappointment  of  the  contemplated  change.  She 
had  looked  forward  to  the  merry  doings  of  that  shabby 
little  court  in  Paris  with  such  anticipations  of  triumph. 
In  her  secret  heart  she  had  even  planned  the  captivation 
of  the  laughing,  quaffing,  carelessly  good-natured  monarch. 
Were  all  her  delightful  day-dreams  to  end  in  Squire 
Chenage  and  his  great  sorrowful-looking  house?  Des 
perate  as  the  circumstances  environing  her  were,  she 
was  resolved  not  to  submit  to  them  if  it  were  possible 
to  escape  a  lot  so  repugnant  and  so  final. 

De  Burg  waited  for  her  to  speak.  He  was  determined 
not  to  weaken  his  ultimatum  with  many  words.  "  Fix 
the  day,  and  fix  it  at  the  earliest  possible  date,"  was  all 
that  he  would  say.  His  sulky  silence,  if  she  had  known 
it,  was  the  sign  of  the  white  feather,  of  a  certain  pity  for 
the  beautiful  girl  whom  he  was  dooming  to  a  life  so  hate 
ful  and  hopeless  to  her.  He  felt  that  if  he  any  longer 
permitted  her  to  weep  and  plead  he  must  in  some  meas 
ure  give  way,  and  so  he  retreated  into  the  fortress  of  a 
sulky  silence.  But  Anastasia  was  not  one  who  looked 
below  the  surface  for  a  motive.  Her  father's  silence  she 
took  for  the  evidence  of  an  inflexible  resolution. 

"  Let  me  have  this  night,  Father.  1  commonly  think 
in  the  night.  Then,  if  I  see  your  plan  to  be  the  best,  I 
will  take  it  of  you,  and  let  my  own  hopes  go  in  God's 
name." 

She  spoke  in  a  low,  tearful  voice,  and  he  could  not 
resist  her  request,  though  he  was  obliged  to  speak  gruffly 
in  order  to  keep  his  position  intact. 


I  SO  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  I  '11  warrant  you  '11  come  to  your  senses  before 
morning,  Asia.  Chenage  is  as  good  a  gentleman  as  lives, 
and  his  offer  is  to  my  great  contentment.  If  you  fall 
a-crying  now,  you  shall  have  the  room  to  yourself.  Peace, 
I  say!" 

She  shut  the  parlour  door  with  a  passionate  force  be 
hind  her,  and  fled  like  a  frightened  child  up  the  dim 
stairway  to  her  room.  She  had  a  quick  thought  of  the 
Anastasia  that  passed  slowly  down  it  in  the  morning  sun 
shine,  and  a  quick  pity  for  the  Anastasia  hurrying  through 
its  shadows  at  night,  pursued  by  a  fate  pitiless  and  hateful 
which  she  knew  would  overtake  her.  With  trembling 
haste  she  drew  the  large  iron  bolt  across  her  own  door ; 
but  she  could  not  shut  out  the  terror  which  was  in  her 
heart.  For  a  moment  she  stood  in  the  scarcely  lighted 
room  panting  like  a  hunted  creature ;  then  she  lighted 
several  candles  from  the  burning  rush-light,  and  sat  down 
somewhat  quieted  by  the  act. 

With  angry  vehemence  she  tossed  aside  the  white  robe 
and  blue  silk  petticoat.  "  I  will  never  wear  them  again," 
she  muttered.  "  They  are  full  of  ill  luck,  they  are  the 
colours  of  disappointment  and  misfortune  to  me.  If  this 
is  the  world,  would  I  were  out  of  it !  If  Chenage  will 
have  me,  he  shall  rue  it.  Faith  !  I  '11  make  him  wish 
he  had  never  seen  me.  My  only  amusement  will  be  to 
torture  him.  Ah,  the  wretched  life  !  I  wish  —  I  wish 
—  I  wish  that  John  would  come  !  John  would  not  see 
me  wronged  !  " 

She  had  been  rapidly  undressing  to  these  ejaculations. 
The  freedom  given  to  her  body  seemed  in  some  way  to 
enlarge  her  mind.  John's  name  gave  her  a  new  hope. 
She  was  now  half  scornful  of  her  own  submission.  She 
thought  of  twenty  arguments  she  might  have  used  against 
her  father's  plan.  Before  the  mirror  she  looked  at  her- 


THE  BARON  AND  AN  AST  ASIA.  l8l 

self  and  pitied  the  fate  of  her  youth  and  beauty ;  but  as 
she  passed  her  fingers  through  her  long  curls,  the  new 
hope  gradually  took  clearness  and  form  in  her  mind. 

In  the  hurry  of  their  parting  at  Sandys  John  had  cer 
tainly  said  something  about  "  coming  back  to  see  her  in 
a  month."  Yes,  she  remembered  the  word  "month." 
At  the  time  the  promise  had  nov  appeared  to  her  desir 
able  ;  she  had  passed  it  by  with  a  passing  assent.  Now 
she  rigidly  inquired  of  memory  for  it.  She  endeavoured 
to  recall  the  tone  in  which  it  was  made,  the  expression 
of  John's  face,  the  particular  sentences  before  and  follow 
ing  it ;  and  her  final  conclusion  was  that  John  certainly 
intended  to  visit  her  very  soon. 

She  could  understand  that  his  curiosity  would  lead 
him  to  do  so.  Filling  his  life  with  great  and  shameful 
tragedies,  John  de  Burg  had  nevertheless  that  small  kind 
of  soul  which  is  inquisitive  about  petty  affairs.  Without 
reflecting  on  the  peculiarity,  Anastasia  knew  that  it  ex 
isted.  She  knew  all  his  small  hatreds,  his  scornful  tol 
eration  of  Prideaux,  his  real  admiration  of  Olivia,  his 
jealousy  of  Nathaniel ;  she  imagined  the  laughter  and 
delight  they  would  have  together  over  the  trial  and  sen 
tence  of  Prideaux  and  Asa ;  and  she  came  to  the  positive 
belief  that  within  three  weeks,  perhaps  two,  John  would 
certainly  venture  to  meet  her  somewhere.  Well,  then, 
delay  was  all  she  needed. 

"  I  '11  go  with  John.  Yes,  I  '11  go  with  John,  if  he  were 
a  thousand  times  an  outlaw,  rather  than  with  Chenage  to 
that  gloomy  prison  of  his.  But  it  will  need  management." 

By  "  management "  she  meant  deception.  She  had 
not  that  brutal  courage  which  attains  its  ends  by  a  physi 
cal  storming  of  whatever  contradicts.  She  preferred  to 
cozen  and  smile  and  allure.  Chenage  was  inclined  to  be 
suspicious  and  jealous;  she  would  accept  him  with  an 


1 82  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

appearance  of  grateful  pleasure.  She  would  tell  him  she 
loved  him  for  his  kindness  to  her  father.  She  would  fool 
him  to  the  top  of  his  bent,  but  she  would  also  put  off 
to  the  last  possible  moment  the  hateful  ceremony  which 
would  make  him  lord  and  master,  and  her  the  obedient 
or  rebellious  slave  of  his  wishes  ;  and,  to  the  last  mo 
ment,  she  would  hope  and  watch  for  John. 

After  a  little  silence  she  went  further,  though  it  was  at 
first  with  fear  and  uncertainty.  "  And  if  John  should  not 
come  in  time,  John  will  find  out  where  I  am.  He  will 
come  and  see  me,  or  he  will  send.  I  know  the  man  he 
will  send,  —  Pastro  ;  I  can  see  his  short,  black,  curling 
hair,  his  flat  cap  and  ear-rings,  his  red,  thick  bull's  neck, 
his  dark  skin,  his  sailorly  roll.  He  '11  hang  round  till  he 
sees  me ;  and  John  won't  be  far  off.  And  if  I  am  un 
happy  —  and  I  know  I  shall  be  unhappy  —  I  shall  tell 
John  ;  or  —  or  —  or  Chenage  might  have  an  invitation  to 
go  with  John" 

Her  face  flushed,  her  eyes  danced  with  delight.  She 
flung  herself  upon  the  bed  to  luxuriate  in  such  a  delect 
able  scheme  of  revenge.  Every  now  and  then  she 
laughed  softly  to  her  pillow.  She  might  have  to  be 
gracious  and  humble  for  a  little  while,  but  oh,  the  rap 
ture,  the  delirious  rapture  of  her  revenge  ! 

"And  I  shall  not  blame  myself,"  she  murmured  com 
placently  ;  "  't  will  be  his  own  fault.  He  has  lent  fathei 
money  purposely  for  this  end.  Neither  will  I  blame 
father.  I  warrant  he  thinks  he  gets  me  cheap  at  a  few 
hundred  pounds.  A  dear  wife  I  will  be  to  him  !  Oh, 
Roger  Chenage  !  Roger  Chenage  !  You  shall  find  out 
how  sharp  are  a  woman's  secret  teeth." 

In  a  couple  of  hours  she  had  quite  accepted  the  sit 
uation  ;  nay,  she  even  felt  a  wicked  exultation  in  it. 
Nor  must  we  blame  her  beyond  reason.  The  women  of 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  183. 

every  age  are  in  a  measure  what  the  age  makes  them. 
Cromwell's  age  was  an  herioc  one ;  everything,  good  or 
bad,  took  on  large  proportions.  The  good  women  had 
opportunities  for  amazing  faith,  for  great  self-denial  and 
magnanimous  deeds ;  the  evil  women  were  driven  by 
the  same  circumstances  into  vast  oppositions.  They  did, 
and  they  suffered,  gigantic  wrongs ;  and  they  had  all  the 
facilities  for  outrageous  revenges.  Betrayed  confidences 
could  send  men  to  prison  or  to  the  scaffold,  a  little  sinful 
gold  sell  them  into  hopeless  slavery,  a  planned  jealousy 
deliver  them  to  be  spitted  on  a  rival's  sword.  Anastasia, 
looking  at  her  wrongs  in  the  light  of  her  own  time,  saw 
how  she  might  rid  herself  of  an  unwelcome  husband ; 
kidnapping,  slavery,  death,  —  these  were  her  weapons. 
Had  she  lived  A.  D.  1890,  she  would  have  simply  gone  to 
the  divorce  court. 

After  she  had  come  to  a  firm  and  clear  decision  she 
went  to  sleep.  The  thought  of  murder  was  in  her  heart, 
but  she  called  it  revenge,  and  it  did  not  trouble  her. 
Besides,  she  had  also  made  an  agreement  with  herself, 
that  if  Chenage  behaved  properly  to  her  father  and  to 
herself  she  would  do  him  no  physical  harm.  In  that 
case,  if  she  found  life  intolerable  at  Chenage  Grange,  — 
and  she  was  sure  it  would  be  so,  —  she  would  go  with 
John,  and  Chenage  would  only  have  to  fume  a  little  over 
his  runaway  bride. 

He  was  that  night  in  Kendal  waiting  for  Anastasia's 
decision.  De  Burg  had  promised  him  it  in  the  morning. 
And  he  occupied  the  room  in  the  Crown  Inn  which 
Nathaniel  had  occupied  two  nights  previously.  Oh,  the 
secrets  that  the  four  walls  of  a  room  keep  !  Prayer,  and 
anxious  loving  thoughts,  and  talks  with  conscience,  and 
calm  virtuous  sleep,  —  that  was  the  record  Nathaniel  Kel- 
der  left  on  them.  Chenage  was  under  the  influence  of  a 


1 84  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

brutal  and  selfish  passion.  His  mutterings  were  full  of 
hatred  of  De  Burg.  He  grudged  the  money  he  had 
loaned ;  he  was  trying  to  invent  some  plan  by  which  he 
could  evade  the  payment  of  the  further  sum  promised. 
When  he  thought  especially  of  Anastasia  it  was  with 
mingled  curses  on  her  power  over  him  and  ejaculations 
on  her  beauty.  He  made  himself  great  promises  of  the 
revenges  he  would  take  for  all  the  heart-torment  she 
had  given  him  and  all  the  money  she  had  cost  him. 
Was  this  record  also  written  there  ?  Oh,  changing  guests 
of  inns  and  homes  !  — 

"  May  not  the  ancient  room  you  sit  in  dwell 

In  separate  loving  souls,  for  joy  or  pain  ? 

Nay,  all  its  corners  may  be  painted  plain 
Where  heaven  shows  pictures  of  some  life  spent  well, 

Or  may  be  stamped  —  a  memory,  all  in  vain  — - 
Upon  the  sight  of  lidless  eyes  in  hell." 

The  morning  was  a  dull,  rainy  one.  It  broke  austerely. 
The  wind  lashed  the  boughs  of  the  trees  and  gave  them 
a  doleful  aspect,  and  the  very  sky  seemed  flattened  under 
the  pouring  rain  which  drowned  the  horizon.  But  Anas 
tasia  was  not  affected  by  atmospheric  influence ;  she  had 
a  vague  passing  pity  for  the  cows  browsing  in  the  wet 
grass  of  the  distant  meadows,  but  she  turned  from  the 
window  to  the  mirror  with  a  mind  perfectly  settled  on 
her  own  affairs.  Rain  or  shine,  she  knew  the  way  she 
was  going,  and  at  the  moment  when  she  put  her  bare 
feet  upon  the  polished  oak  of  the  floor  she  began  to 
take  it. 

She  dressed  a  trifle  more  carelessly  than  usual.  She 
was  not  going  to  give  herself  any  particular  trouble  about 
Roger  Chenage.  Her  sacrifice  was  granted,  but  why 
deck  it  with  pink  bows  ?  Otherwise  there  was  no  differ 
ence  in  her  appearance.  She  met  her  father  with  a 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  185 

smile,  and  De  Burg  was  grateful  for  it.  He  looked  hag 
gard  and  weary,  for  he  had  really  passed  an  anxious  and 
sleepless  night.  Truly,  he  wanted  his  own  way,  but  he 
wanted  it  without  serious  pain  to  Anastasia;  so  her 
smile  was  better  than  sunshine  to  him.  He  kissed  her 
voluntarily,  —  a  favour  so  unusual  that  it  made  her  cheeks 
flame  with  pleasure.  She  felt  at  that  moment  as  if  it 
would  be  a  joy  to  use  Chenage  in  any  way  necessary  for 
the  welfare  of  De  Burg. 

De  Burg  read  her  like  a  printed  page.  He  perceived 
that  in  her  present  mood  he  might  resign  everything  in 
order  to  gain  everything ;  and,  as  he  anticipated,  she 
refused  to  accept  this  surrender, 

"  'T  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  she  answered.  "  I  shall 
manage  Chenage  to  my  own  purposes  very  well,  Father ; 
and  if  he  mistreat  me,  I  warrant  he  will  do  so  at  his  own 
peril.  My  only  affliction  is  that  I  must  lose  you." 

"  'T  will  not  be  for  long,  Asia.  I  may  promise  you  so 
much." 

"  And  when  the  king  comes  home  you  will  be  with 
him  ;  and  you  will  send  for  me  to  London,  and  I  shall  see 
the  new  Spring  Garden,  and  disport  myself  at  the  court 
masques  and  balls." 

"  You  shall,  surely !  You  have  been  kind  and  obe 
dient  to  me,  Asia.  When  Chenage  comes  this  morning, 
give  him  the  earliest  day  for  my  sake." 

"A  month  hence?" 

"  Do  you  dream?     A  week  hence  is  too  late." 

"  'T  is  impossible  !  And  surely  you  have  some  ar 
rangements  to  make ;  money  is  but  the  first.  What 
conveyance  have  you  to  the  coast?" 

"  My  own  horse  will  take  me  to  Whitehaven  bravely." 

"  It  will  not  carry  you  across  seas.v 

"  Le  Tall  has  a  friend,  whose  ship  is  now  unloading 


1 86  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

at  Whitehaven,  from  the  Barbadoes.  It  waits  for  me, 
and  will  go  so  far  out  of  its  course  as  to  drop  me  upon 
French  soil.  And  if  I  forget  you  for  an  hour,  Asia, 
't  will  be  against  my  will ;  though  for  the  present  I  must 
content  myself  with  the  belief  that  Chenage  has  a  dis 
tracting  love  for  you." 

"  The  ways  of  love  are  many.  Chenage  will  vow  you 
black  and  blue  that  his  is  one  of  them.  It  will  pass 
at  that !  "  And  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a 
scorn  that  words  would  vainly  have  tried  to  express. 

"  He  hath  a  good  name  also.  Le  Tall  said  to  me 
but  yesterday  that  no  merry  party  would  willingly  want 
him." 

"  I  '11  warrant  it  so.  Few  men  care  to  show  their 
private  faces  in  public." 

"  And  't  is  a  common  report,  among  those  who  pro 
fess  to  know,  that  Old  Noll  hath  not  many  days  to  live. 
Then  we  may  hope  —  " 

"  I  will  none  of  Hope  !  She  is  an  old  gypsy,  forever 
prophesying  lies.  She  told  me  I  was  to  go  to  Paris  with 
you,  and  then  fled  away  before  Necessity,  who  sends 
me  to  Chenage,  without  an  '  ah  ! '  or  '  oh  ! '  or  '  how  ! ' 
about  it." 

"  'T  is  all  contrary  to  my  desire.  Chenage  will  be 
here  anon;  I  will  leave  you  to  take  care  of  your  own 
affairs." 

"  Have  no  fear.  He  shall  take  care  of  yours  also. 
'T  is  not  my  nature  to  put  my  father  at  the  feet  of  any 
other  man." 

He  was  really  too  troubled  to  answer ;  but  Anastasia 
understood  his  set  white  face  and  drooping  head ;  and 
when  his  misty  eyes  flashed  one  look  at  her,  they 
touched  the  girl  deeper  than  Chenage  might  ever  hope 
to  do.  She  even  found  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  the  thought 


THE  BARON  AND  ANASTASIA.  1 87 

that  she  might  use  Chenage  to  ransom  her  father's  hon 
our  and  fortune.  And  yet  't  was  but  a  poor  pleasure, 
leaving  behind  it  a  bitter  sense  of  wrong  to  her  own 
life  and  hopes. 

After  De  Burg  left  the  room,  it  seemed  inexpressibly 
dreary ;  and  as  she  walked  restlessly  about  it,  a  Hindu 
idol,  upon  a  shelf  filled  with  Asiatic  curiosities,  attracted 
her  attention,  —  such  a  melancholy,  hideous,  dropsied, 
gloomy  god,  simian  and  obscene,  with  half-closed  eyes 
and  sempiternal  smile  !  She  stood  musingly  before  it. 

"  'T  is  said  that  mostly  women  pray  to  it.  What 
misery  women  do  endure  !  for  where  that  horror  is  the 
likeness  of  a  god,  conceive  me  what  the  men  may  be  ! 
Certainly  Chenage  is  something  better,  or  't  is  to  be 
hoped  so.  And  if  Chenage  is  my  fate,  I  will  not  cross 
destiny,  for  't  is  to  cross  my  luck.  But,  oh,  the  bitterness 
of  it !  Chenage,  whom  I  have  mocked  and  despised  ! 
Chenage,  whom  I  have  vowed  never  to  marry  !  Che 
nage,  of  all  men,  to  open  the  door  of  my  future  home  ! 
'T  is  beyond  belief!  'Tis  beyond  endurance  !  " 

But  Anastasia  was  only  experiencing  one  of  those  con 
tradictions  of  fortune  which  in  all  ages  have  been  a 
lament.  Can  any  man  or  woman  say,  "  I  will  not  entei 
a  certain  dwelling"?  The  swift  changes  of  life  may 
bring  them  to  its  threshold,  may  push  them  in,  and 
they  not  even  dream  of  escaping.  Therefore  the  wise 
defile  not  any  well,  because  they  may  yet  have  to  drinfc 
of  its  water. 


X. 

A   MEETING. 

"O  sad  bride,  feigning  to  be  what  thou  art  not!  veiling  with  smiles  thy 
fears  of  wrong,  thy  dreams  of  quick  vengeance." 

"  All  strangest  things  the  multitudinous  years 
Bring  forth,  and  shadow  from  us  all  we  know; 
Falter  alike  great  oath  and  steeled  resolve, 
And  none  shall  say  of  aught,  '  This  may  not  be.'  " 

JENIFER  WARING  was  a  woman  of  sorrowful  spirit, 
—  one  who  never  sunned  herself  on  the  mountain- 
tops  of  her  faith.  Though  her  Bible  told  her  that  "  the 
earth  is  full  of  the  goodness  of  the  Lord,"  she  pre 
ferred  to  think  of  Jehovah  as  a  niggardly  dispenser  of 
happiness,  delighting  to  feed  his  people  with  the  bread 
and  water  of  affliction.  So  she  looked  with  distrust  on 
the  happy  confidence  which  enabled  Olivia  to  stay  her 
heart  on  God.  These  were  days  of  great  spiritual 
warfare,  and  she  herself  was  thankful  if  she  might  only 
dip  her  parched  corn  in  the  vinegar.  How,  then,  should 
a  child  like  Olivia  have  the  banqueting-house  and  the 
banner  of  Love  over  her? 

For  Olivia's  soul  was  a  garden,  Jenifer's  a  lonely,  com 
plaining  place ;  and  she  wondered  how  Olivia,  resting 
on  the  Lord  to  do  all  things  well,  could  not  only  quiet 
her  heart  in  that  assurance,  but  also  keep  her  tongue 
from  reproaching  those  who  had  done  her  wrong.  Jeni 
fer  wished  to  discuss  all  the  circumstances  which  had 
brought  Roger  Prideaux  into  trouble,  and  her  womanly 


A   MEETING.  189 

instincts  told  her  that  there  had  been  something  between 
Anastasia  and  Olivia  which  the  examination  in  Kendal 
had  not  reached.  She  judged  it  concerned  Nathaniel 
Kelder ;  and  she  enjoyed  a  love  affair,  if  it  did  not  run 
straight  and  found  plenty  of  crosses  on  its  crooked  road. 
But  about  personal  matters  Olivia  was  exceedingly  reti 
cent  ;  and  reticence  between  women  is  an  attitude  capa 
ble  of  causing  great  heart-burning. 

Olivia,  then,  did  not  satisfy  her  protector's  hopes. 
She  had  looked  forward  to  weeping  with  her,  —  to  a 
luxury  of  spiritual  and  earthly  complaining  which  would 
have  been  better  than  singing  to  Jenifer.  But  Olivia's 
serenity  and  guarded  speech  gave  her  no  such  oppor 
tunities.  She  also  took  some  credit  to  herself  for  the 
open  confession  of  her  opinions  involved  in  her  kind 
ness,  especially  as  she  had  decidedly  crossed  the  wish 
of  her  more  prudent  husband  in  order  to  make  it. 
Herein,  doubtless,  lay  her  compensation;  for  Justice 
Waring  was  a  masterful  man  at  home.  But  this  was  an 
occasion  of  self-assertion  which  could  be  grounded  upon 
conscience,  and  the  strictest  domestic  martinets  gener 
ally  find  themselves  unable  to  face  a  woman  crossing 
their  orders  "  for  conscience'  sake." 

And  Jenifer  recalled  frequently,  and  with  pleasure, 
the  face  of  her  husband  when  he  saw  his  coach  standing 
at  the  door  of  the  Town  Hall,  and  heard  her  say  that 
she  thought  it  her  "  duty  to  take  charge  of  the  young 
daughter  of  Roger  Prideaux."  He  had  not  dared  to 
oppose  her,  lest  he  should  be  publicly  resisted.  Jenifer 
smiled  when  she  thought  of  that  moment. 

Besides,  she  would  have  the  pleasure  of  telling  George 
Fox  what  she  had  done.  For  she  gave  to  Fox  that 
reverent  admiration  which  women  give  to  men  who  are 
lords  of  themselves  and  others,  —  that  pure  feminine 


190  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

admiration,  having  in  it  no  element  of  sin,  because  given 
to  attributes,  and  only  affecting  the  individual  as  the 
representative  and  interpreter  of  them. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  after  the 
trial  that  Nathaniel  came  for  Olivia,  and  about  noon  she 
was  ready  to  depart.  Justice  Waring1  s  house  was  on 
the  main  street ;  but  the  shopkeepers  were  mostly  in 
their  parlours  eating  their  dinners,  and  the  Strickland- 
gate  was  as  quiet  as  if  it  were  the  noon  of  night  instead 
of  day.  Nathaniel  was  by  the  open  coach,  with  his 
handsome  face  lifted  to  the  door  of  the  house ;  for  on 
the  topmost  step  of  the  flight  leading  to  it  Mistress 
Waring  stood,  holding  Olivia's  hand.  They  made  a 
picture  worth  taking  into  the  memory,  —  the  large, 
comely,  richly  dressed  matron,  and  the  slight,  fair  girl 
with  her  composed  manner  and  innocent  face.  Her 
white  sarcenet  hood  made  a  soft  radiance  round  it,  and 
the  sombre  plainness  of  her  dress  received  an  air  of 
freshness  and  sweetness  from  the  roses  and  mignonette 
she  carried  in  her  hand. 

There  was  a  silk-mercer's  shop  adjoining  the  Warings' 
house ;  and  as  Mistress  Waring  stood  holding  Olivia's 
hand,  and  Nathaniel  stood  smiling  and  watching  them, 
the  shop  door  tinkled  sharply,  and  Roger  Chenage  and 
Anastasia  de  Burg  came  out  together.  Anastasia  had 
been  choosing  her  wedding  dress,  and  was  in  a  temper 
of  scoffing  mirth ;  while  Chenage,  in  a  sulky  admiration, 
was  trying  to  understand  her. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  bells  began  a  noon-day 
chime,  and  Chenage  made  some  reference  to  their  we'd- 
ding  peal.  She  looked  at  him  with  contempt,  and  toss 
ing  her  head  saucily,  answered,  — 

"  A  wedding  peal !  Nay,  we  will  have  a  noise  of 
trumpets;  or,  better  still,  the  butchers  shall  ring  us 


A   MEETING,  IQI 

a  triple  major  with  their  knives  and  cleavers.  Sure  I 
have  heard  that  when  the  king  brought  home  his  queen, 
the  London  butchers  on  Ludgate  Hill  made  a  pretty 
enough  music  so.  I  swear  we  will  have  the  butchers." 

"  Take  a  care,  Mistress.  You  are  going  beyond  my 
understanding." 

"  'T  would  be  no  hard  thing  to  do  that ; "  and  then 
suddenly  both  her  feet  and  her  tongue  received  a  mo 
mentary  check.  She  saw  the  little  tableau  at  Justice 
Waring's  door,  and  by  a  glance  directed  the  attention 
of  Chenage  to  it.  The  sight  infuriated  Anastasia,  and 
she  believed  it  had  been  deliberately  planned  for  her 
mortification.  Yet,  with  a  bitter  laugh,  she  advised 
Chenage  to  study  the  devotion  of  the  Puritan  lover. 

Chenage  defended  himself  with  a  sullen  justice. 
"When  will  you  look  at  me  as  that  girl  looks  at  Kel- 
der?"he  asked.  "By  my  soul!  a  man  could  catch 
love  from  her  eyes." 

He  was  swinging  his  feathered  hat  angrily,  and  try 
ing  to  carry  his  finery  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew 
sword  and  buckler;  but  it  was  hard  work  with  Ana- 
stasia's  cold  eyes  upon  him  and  her  sneering  words  in 
his  ears. 

"  Fortune  is  a  jade  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  an  ill  jade,  or  she 
had  given  me  a  Puritan  lover.  How  I  should  adore 
one  !  How  becoming  is  their  dress  !  How  refined  and 
gentle  their  manners  !  They  do  not  dice,  nor  drink, 
nor  dance.  Loving  is  their  only  vice,  and  I  vow  they 
love  to  perfection  !  That  man  touches  the  girl  as  if  she 
were  the  Virgin  Mary.  He  speaks  to  her  as  if  he 
said,  '  Your  Majesty.'  Ah  me  !  I  would  I  had  a  Puritan 
lover." 

She  looked  in  his  face  so  directly  and  with  such  glint 
ing  eyes  that  he  knew  not  whether  she  was  in  jest  or  in 


192  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

earnest ;  in  fact,  she  knew  not  herself  which  of  the  pas 
sions  rioting  in  her  heart  was  chief  over  the  rest.  In 
a  few  moments  the  coach  overtook  them,  passed  them, 
and  so  went  slowly  out  of  sight.  It  was  open  to  the 
sunshine  and  the  breeze,  and  Olivia  was  its  sole  occu 
pant.  She  sat  in  it  like  a  child,  with  the  same  air  of 
simplicity  and  unconsciousness.  Nathaniel  rode  his  own 
horse,  guiding  it  (as  Anastasia  noticed)  so  close  to 
Olivia's  side  that  he  could  bend  low  enough  to  catch 
her  conversation. 

Olivia  looked  not  to  the  right  or  the  left ;  but  she  re 
ceived  in  some  momentary  glance  the  knowledge  that  it 
was  Chenage  and  Anastasia  she  was  passing.  Eyes  rain 
ing  evil  influence  were  upon  her ;  but  her  will  of  goodness 
was  equal  to  Anastasia's  will  of  wickedness,  and  she  would 
not  turn  her  face  to  the  handsome  one  regarding  her  with 
such  malignant  authority.  Nathaniel,  on  the  contrary, 
looked  steadfastly  at  the  couple,  and  the  haughty,  pas 
sionate  girl  felt  the  quick  pang  of  his  penetrating,  re 
proachful  glance.  She  threw  her  head  a  little  backward, 
and  lifted  her  flowing  skirt  to  exhibit  her  spangled  shoes, 
—  for  she  was  wearing  her  most  splendid  clothes,  having 
determined  during  the  interval  of  courtship  to  make 
Chenage  visit  her  mercer  and  her  tailor  to  abundant  ad 
vantage.  She  glittered  in  silk  and  silver  and  gems ;  she 
moved  to  the  nodding  of  plumes,  and  waving  of  lace,  and 
flaunting  of  ribbons  ;  and  the  fresh  wind  caught  from  her 
fluttering  trappings  the  waft  of  lavender  and  precious  East 
ern  scents.  A  few  years  later  Nathaniel  wondered  if 
John  Milton  had  been  in  Kendal  that  day,  and  he  smiled 
as  he  opened  the  "Samson  Agonistes "  and  read  that 
question  in  it  which  so  perfectly  described  the  girl. 

"  But  who  is  this  ?     What  thing  of  sea  or  land  ? 
Female  of  sex  it  seems, 


A   MEETING.  193 

That  so  bedecked,  ornate,  and  gay, 

Comes  this  way,  sailing 

Like  a  stately  ship 

Of  Tarsus,  bound  for  the  isles 

Of  Javan  or  Gadire, 

With  all  her  bravery  on  and  tackle  trim, 

Sails  filled,  and  streamers  waving, 

Courted  by  all  the  winds  that  hold  them  play, 

An  amber  scent  of  odorous  perfume 

Her  harbinger/' 

Yet  this  picture,  vivid  as  it  was,  took  but  a  moment  to 
impress  itself,  and  even  shared  that  moment  with  its  com 
panion  picture,  —  an  equally  bedizened  man,  his  hair  in 
long  scented  curls,  his  feathered  beaver  swinging  in  his 
hand,  and  his  large  brown  face  turned  with  insolent  and 
sullen  anger  upon  the  young  girl  in  the  coach  and  the 
young  man  riding  at  her  side. 

"  I  shall  go  mad  with  the  insolence  of  that  fellow,"  he 
said  ;  for  he  was  not  oblivious  of  Nathaniel's  glance,  nor 
yet  of  the  power  it  had  over  Anastasia  ;  and  as  he  uttered 
the  words  he  dashed  his  beaver  passionately  against  his 
right  knee. 

"  Then  you  may  go  mad  without  my  help.  I  am  indif 
ferent  to  the  disagreeable  creatures." 

"  I  will  pistol  him  before  your  face  if  I  see  your  eyes 
on  him  again." 

"  Are  you  so  far  gone  in  jealousy?  Ha  !  ha  !  Is  your 
neck  clothed  with  thunder?  Do  you  commonly  drink 
brandy  and  gunpowder,  sir?  Let  me  tell  you  Nathaniel 
Kelder  hath  brave  blood  in  every  vein,  and  it  is  not  your 
hand  will  ever  let  it." 

"  It  seemeth  to  me  that  he  ought  to  be  in  my  place." 

"  As  I  am  convinced  that  you  love  me,  I  will  own  that 
he  would  be  even  more  disagreeable.  I  have  but  a  slim 
chance  of  ruling  you.  I  should  be  a  slave  under  Nat 
Kelder's  will." 

13 


194  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Nay,  then,  Anastasia,  you.  may  rule  me  to  your  heart's 
content,  I  am  so  far  gone  with  you.  Thank  your  stars, 
my  girl,  that  fortune  has  given  you  a  husband  so  much 
your  slave." 

But  she  was  far  from  being  thankful.  She  was  sullen 
and  ill-natured,  and  indulged  herself  in  such  sarcastic 
speeches  as  made  her  lover  explode  with  laughter  and 
burn  with  indignation  at  the  same  moment.  They  called 
this  wooing,  and  bandied  their  veiled  words  backward  and 
forward  with  smiles  and  stolen  kisses  ;  but  in  his  heart 
Chenage  was  promising  himself  a  full  indemnity  after 
marriage,  and  Anastasia's  eyes  saw  coming  toward  her 
the  swift-winged  ship  which  would  bring  her  a  perfect 
satisfaction  and  a  perfect  freedom.  So  ready  a  creditor 
is  the  future  to  the  dissatisfied.  It  promises  anything, 
everything ;  it  willingly  accepts  mortgage  after  mortgage 
upon  its  unrealized  happiness,  and  then,  with  sudden 
calamity  or  slow,  agonizing  delays,  forecloses  on  life,  and 
turns  the  bankrupt  heart  out  of  home  and  out  of  hope. 

At  the  same  time  Olivia  and  Nathaniel  went  slowly 
through  the  scented  lanes  between  Kendal  and  Sandys. 
They  were  in  no  hurry.  Nathaniel  dismounted  to  gather 
her  some  bluebells,  and  having  done  so  he  hung  his  bridle 
over  his  arm  and  walked  by  the  side  of  the  coach.  They 
talked  in  that  low  voice  which  lovers  naturally  choose,  and 
yet  their  matter  of  conversation  was  nothing  to  such  spe 
cial  purpose.  But  Love  has  all  things,  all  words,  all  looks, 
all  motions  for  his  own.  He  can  vow  affection  without  a 
word,  and  give  everything  in  the  transfer  of  a  glance. 

To  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  it  was  a  charmed  journey. 
The  slow  rumbling  of  the  wheels  in  the  wagon  ruts, 
the  ring  of  the  whetstone  sharpening  the  haymakers' 
scythes,  the  call  of  the  crake  in  the  meadows,  the 
never-ceasing  murmur  of  running  water,  —  all  these  sim- 


A   MEETING.  195 

pie  sounds  made  distinct  impressions,  and  yet  blended 
with  their  own  whispered  speech  as  perfectly  as  if  Nature 
was  composing  a  piece  for  six  voices,  and  doing  it  with 
that  delightful  perfection  of  imperfection  which  charms 
?,11  discords  into  sweetest  harmony. 

Who  can  blame  them  if  they  lingered  on  their  way,  — 
if  they  did  not  reach  Sandys  until  the  sun  was  westering 
low  on  the  horizon  ?  Never  could  hours  with  just  the 
same  bliss  come  back  to  them ;  for  love  must  have  the 
flavour  of  its  circumstances,  and  these  continually  change. 
This  afternoon  there  was  the  parting  with  Jenifer  Waring, 
and  the  expected  meeting  with  Hannah  Mettelane,  and 
the  long  unbroken  companionship  of  their  happy  jour 
ney,  and,  not  without  its  influence,  though  unspoken 
of,  the  meeting  with  Anastasia  de  Burg.  Unconsciously, 
even  this  had  drawn  them  closer  together.  Anastasia 
was  a  bitter  element  in  herself,  but  the  very  act  of  elud 
ing  her  special  notice  turned  the  bitterness  into  that 
sense  of  elation  which  is  the  result  of  escape  from  any 
thing  evil.  Perhaps,  indeed,  when  the  light  of  heaven 
shows  us  clearly  the  pitfalls  and  dangers  of  the  earth- 
road  which  led  us  to  the  Holy  City  our  sweetest  songs 
of  gratitude  will  be,  not  for  the  troubles  we  have  con 
quered,  but  for  those  which  we  have  escaped. 

When  they  reached  Sandys,  Olivia  was  pleasantly  sur 
prised.  She  had  expected  the  house  to  express  by  many 
outward  tokens  of  neglect  the  anxiety  and  los-s  which 
was  in  its  owner's  heart.  But  Hannah  Mettelane  was  not 
a  woman  who  delighted  in  ceremonious  and  mournful 
symbols  of  sorrow.  Joy  in  the  Lord,  and  doing  her 
duty  in  it,  was  the  cheerful  law  of  her  life.  In  all  troub 
lous  events  she  could  find  some  comfort,  though  it  was 
only  the  negative  admission  that  things  might  have  been 
worse.  She  had  no  children,  and  Olivia  was  dear  to 


196  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

her.  Indeed,  the  girl  had  spent  much  of  her  life  'in 
the  low,  wide-spreading  Mettelane  farmhouse,  under  the 
almost  motherly  care  of  Hannah  Mettelane. 

She  was  at  the  open  door  of  Sandys  to  meet  them, 
her  broad,  beaming  face  one  general  smile  of  welcome  ; 
and  it  fully  included  Nathaniel,  although  she  had  never 
seen  him  before ;  but  her  woman's  heart  told  her  that 
he  was  Olivia's  lover,  and  a  true  love  affair  was  to  Han 
nah  Mettelane  a  true  delight. 

The  house  had  its  usual  atmosphere  of  peace  and 
content  and  spotless  cleanliness.  They  went  into  the 
parlour.  The  basil  pot  in  the  window  diffused  its  restor 
ative  aroma,  and  great  nosegays  of  roses  gave  a  delight 
ful  freshness  and  fragrance  to  the  handsome  old  room. 
A  cold  capon,  a  dish  of  curds  and  cream,  some  delicate 
Christ  Church  tarts,  and  a  bowl  of  ripe  cherries  were 
spread  upon  the  whitest  of  linen.  Red  Rhine  wine 
stood  by  Nathaniel's  side,  and  Aunt  Hannah  brought 
with  her  own  hands  a  foaming  pitcher  of  delicious  new 
milk.  She  understood  also  their  desire  to  be  everything 
to  each  other,  and  she  invented  a  number  of  house 
duties  in  order  to  leave  Olivia  the  pleasant  task  of 
entertaining  her  lover. 

Nathaniel  had  told  himself  that  he  would  not  remain 
many  minutes,  but  he  could  not  resist  the  enchantment 
of  the  hour  and  the  love  which  glorified  it.  He  remem 
bered  his  lonely  mother  affectionately,  but  yet  he  lin 
gered  until  the  twilight  lost  every  tinge  of  colour  and  lay 
like  a  gray  veil  over  the  face  of  sleeping  Nature.  Then 
he  rose  to  say  good-by,  and  at  the  same  moment  Han 
nah  Mettelane  entered  the  room  with  a  letter  in  her 
hand.  It  was  from  her  brother  Roger,  and  the  bearer 
of  it  was  waiting  to  carry  back  the  answer. 

"  You  see,  both  of  you,"    she  said,  "  that  things  are  a 


A  MEETING.  197 

long  way  better  than  we  thought  for.  Roger  says  he 
has  got  a  little  room,  out  of  the  main  room,  for  him 
self  and  Asa,  and  maybe  they  are  n't  so  bad  off  after  all. 
Prisons  can't  be  homes,  and  we  mustn't  expect  it  of 
them.  Roger  is  well  and  having  a  good  conscience, 
and  what  is  there  better  than  that?  There  is  only  one 
bit  of  strange  news  that  I  can  see,  and  perhaps  now  it 
is  the  best  news  of  all :  it 's  about  a  young  man  called 
John  Whitehead ;  he  is  got  out  of  prison  and  bonds  of 
all  kinds." 

"Free?" 

"  Ay,  my  dear  lad,  free  !  Set  free  by  God  Almighty's 
own  hand." 

"Dead?" 

"  Nay,  then,  we  had  better  say  '  living  forever.'  " 

"  Poor  John  !  " 

"  Not  '  poor,'  Olivia.  No  indeed  !  Your  father  writes 
that  the  young  man  was  happy  to  enter  death  land,  and 
went  away  in  a  great  state  of  love  and  rapture." 

"  Of  what  did  he  die  ?  " 

"  Of  jail  fever,  and  want  of  all  earthly  comforts. 
Roger  says  his  body  was  worn  to  ruin  and  ready  to  let 
drop  the  soul  when  they  reached  Appleby." 

"  He  was  Mary  Whitehead's  last  son.  Her  eldest 
perished  in  Colchester  jail,  her  second  on  Bristol  common. 
How  I  wish  I  could  comfort  her  !  Poor,  poor  mother  !  " 

"  Rich  is  thejnother  of  holy  martyrs,  Olivia  !  It  is  a 
great  thing  to  have  had  three  sons  with  such  white  con 
sciences.  I  think  she  got  a  better  portion  for  them  than 
the  mother  of  Zebedee's  children  asked  for  her  sons. 
And  Roger  says  John  Whitehead  preached  '  the  truth  ' 
to  his  fellow-prisoners  until  his  voice  failed  him,  and 
he  could  only  whisper,  softer  and  softer,  '  Jesus  Christ ! 
Jesus  Christ !  Jesus  Christ ! '  " 


198  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  He  has  found  the  way  to  rest,  to  rest  forever,"  said 
Nathaniel ;  "  and,  oh,  how  glad  he  must  have  been 
when  to  him  the  weary  controversies  of  earth  suddenly 
became  silent !  " 

Then  Hannah  Mettelane,  softly  weeping,  went  out 
of  the  room,  and  Olivia  lifted  her  starlike  eyes  to  Na 
thaniel.  Never  had  the  sympathy  between  them  been 
so  sweet  and  strong.  Speechless  with  emotion,  he  led  her 
to  the  open  casement.  The  night  incense  of  the  rose- 
beds  was  wafted  across  her  flower-like  face ;  the  inef 
fable  joy  of  a  pure  and  perfect  love  made  her  tremble 
beneath  his  light  touch.  He  whispered  her  name  and 
drew  her  close  to  his  heart. 

Still  softer  was  her  answer,  "  My  soul !  My  soul !  I 
will  love  thee  forever  !  " 

This  confession,  spontaneous  as  the  perfume  of  the 
roses  or  the  song  of  the  nightingale  singing  by  his  nest 
in  the  sycamore-tree,  filled  Nathaniel  with  a  rapture 
beyond  words.  He  stood  silently  gazing  into  Olivia's 
eyes,  seeing  in  the  duskish  gloom  her  face,  white  as  a 
lily,  shining  with  the  love  behind  it.  Their  souls  had 
met  before ;  now  they  spoke  to  each  other,  —  were  as 
truly  one  as  "  the  sound  in  the  echo  or  the  thought  in 
the  word." 

What  did  they  say  in  that  wondrous  interval  which 
was  but  moments  yet  seemed  to  stretch  infinitely  back 
ward  and  forward?  They  said  everything  !  though  the 
only  audible  expression  was  the  long  sigh  with  which  the 
mysterious  communing  ended. 

It  blended  with  the  stir  of  the  rising  wind  in  the  tree- 
tops  and  the  twittering  of  some  birds  in  the  ivy  above 
the  window.  Then  they  were  aware  of  quick  footsteps, 
of  voices  faintly  familiar,  of  the  near  and  actual  invasion 
of  earth  into  their  transient  heaven.  They  looked  to- 


A   MEETING.  199 

ward  the  door  and  saw  Hannah  Mettelane  enter.  She 
had  a  lighted  candle  in  her  hand,  and  she  was  speak 
ing  with  some  one  who  was  close  behind  her.  It  was 
George  Fox. 

He  came  forward  and  took  the  hands  of  Nathaniel 
and  Olivia  and  clasped  them  together  in  his  own  hands. 
:i  I  am  come  to  put  you  asunder,  children,"  he  said  ; 
"  but  only  for  a  little  while.  Olivia,  thou  must  go  to 
London  and  plead  with  Cromwell  himself  for  thy  father's 
life.  There  is  no  lawyer  for  him  but  thee.  Judge  and 
jury  are  bought  and  sold.  In  this  corner  of  Westmore 
land  De  Burg  is  stronger  than  justice ;  yea,  even  than 
thy  father's  gold." 

"  George  Fox  —  " 

"  Nay,  Nathaniel,  in  this  matter  I  will  hear  no  dissent 
from  thee.  Verily,  I  have  considered  all,  and  I  see  that 
there  is  no  other  way." 

"  At  thy  word  I  will  go  to  London,  friend  George." 

"  And  I  will  go  with  thee,  friend  Olivia.  On  the  third 
day,  early  in  the  morning,  be  ready."  Then,  turning  to 
Hannah  Mettelane  :  "  I  can  neither  eat  nor  drink,  dear 
neighbour.  I  must  cross  the  sands  to  Ulverstone  to-night, 
and  thou  knowest  the  tide  will  flow  at  its  own  time." 

"  How  shall  we  go,  George  ?  " 

"  Thou  must  take  thy  own  coach,  Olivia.  Horses  can 
be  changed  at  all  the  post-houses,  and  the  hurry  is  not 
so  great  as  to  cause  thee  weariness." 

"  Thou  wilt  surely  go  with  me,  George  ?  " 

"  Yea ;  and  also  friend  Jacob  Willis  and  his  wife,  who 
are  under  a  constraint  of  the  Spirit  to  visit  the  perse 
cuted  Friends  in  the  Plymouth  colony.  Their  ship 
sails  from  London  in  two  weeks;  so  then  thou  canst 
help  them  so  far  on  their  journey,  and  have  the  while 
the  comfort  of  their  presence." 


20O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Then,  being  pressed  by  the  rising  tide,  he  hurried  away, 
and  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  watched  him  fade  into  the  gray 
distance.  His  coming  had  been  like  the  call  of  a  bugle 
or  the  clash  of  a  bell.  The  fighting,  wrestling  world  was 
again  pressing  them  hard,  and  Nathaniel  felt  it  with  a 
special  resentment. 

"Though  the  good  man  rides  hard,"  said  Hannah 
Mettelane,  going  to  the  window,  "  't  will  be  hurry  all  if 
he  get  across  the  sands  ere  the  tide  catch  him." 

"  George  Fox  knows  the  way  that  he  takes.  Here  is 
matter  of  more  importance,  Mistress  Mettelane.  It  is 
not  fit  that  Olivia  should  go  to  London  without  me,  and 
in  that  case  it  is  most  fit  she  goes  as  my  wife." 

"  I  am  of  your  mind,  Captain  Kelder ;  and  why 
not?" 

"There  are  two  sufficient  reasons  'why  not,'  Aunt 
Hannah.  How  can  I  marry  while  my  father  is  in  prison? 
'T  would  indeed  be  a  great  occasion  for  people  to  speak 
ill  of  me.  And  also,  I  know  not  if  I  should  be  welcome 
to  Nathaniel's  people.  Indeed,  I  fear  I  should  bring 
contention  among  them." 

"  You  are  to  marry  me,  and  not  my  people,  Olivia." 

"  Nay,  but  I  will  not  marry  thee  without  the  good-will 
of  thy  people.  I  will  neither  go  to  thy  home,  nor  take 
thee  into  my  home,  without  their  liking." 

From  this  opinion  Olivia  could  not  be  persuaded. 
Although  she  made  no  complaint  of  Lady  Kelder's  neg 
lect,  she  was  keenly  sensitive  to  it.  She  was  aware  that 
Nathaniel  had  informed  his  parents  of  their  intention  to 
marry,  and  she  looked  at  least  for  some  courteous  social 
recognition  of  the  intention.  At  this  hour  Nathaniel  also 
felt  it.  He  found  it  impossible  to  make  excuses  for  his 
mother ;  and  when  he  arrived  at  home  he  had  thought 
over  his  supposed  wrong  until  his  heart  was  hot  within 


A   MEETING.  2OI 

him,  and  it  gave  him  a  certain  satisfaction  to  say 
bluntly,  — 

"  I  asked  Olivia  Prideaux  to  marry  me  to-morrow,  and 
she  refused.  That  is  because  you  have  not  given  her  the 
welcome  due  to  my  intended  wife." 

"  You  must  be  moon-struck  !  Or  love-struck  !  Mid 
summer  madness  !  Marry  to-morrow  !  What  are  you 
dreaming  about?" 

"  She  goes  to  London  on  her  father's  business,  and  I 
wish  to  go  with  her." 

"  I  dare  be  bound  you  do.     Well  ?  " 

"  Mother,  you  are  cruel.  I  never  knew  you  so  before. 
If  you  love  me,  go  and  see  Olivia  to-morrow  and  tell  her 
she  is  welcome  in  Kelderby." 

"  Shall  I  tell  a  lie  to  pleasure  Mistress  Prideaux  ?  As 
to  Kelderby,  how  do  you  know  that  it  is  mine,  or  yours,  to 
offer?  The  selfishness  of  youth  passes  my  patience  ! 
While  all  Kelderby  —  house  and  lands  —  hangs  in  the 
balance,  while  your  father  is  fighting  for  his  and  your 
rights  in  a  world  now  strange  and  hard  to  him,  while  I 
watch  and  pray,  neither  sleeping  nor  eating,  weary  to 
fainting  with  the  restless  walk  that  alone  relieves  my 
anxious  heart,  you  are  dawdling  after  that  Quakeress, 
who  has  made  us  all  this  sorrow ;  and  then,  to  crown  your 
injustice,  I  am  cruel  because  I  humble  not  myself  to  her. 
Nathaniel,  you  are  cruel !  And  I  never  knew  you  so 
before." 

She  began  to  weep  bitterly,  and  Nathaniel  was  not  able 
to  endure  that  spectacle.  He  soothed  her  as  best  he 
could  ;  he  mingled  his  tears  with  hers ;  he  found  that  his 
brave  intention  to  insist  upoi.  Olivia's  rights  had  ended 
in  a  reconciliation  which  left  his  mother  decidedly  the 
gainer.  But  who  can  blame  him  ?  Brutal  is  the  son  who 
is  not  vanquished  by  his  mother's  tears  ! 


2O2  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

He  went  to  his  room  utterly  worn  out  with  feeling, 
and  yet  he  could  not  sleep.  The  face,  the  voice,  the 
touch,  the  influence  of  Olivia,  dominated  him.  He  whis 
pered  her  name  continually.  He  felt  all  the  bitterness 
and  the  sweetness  of  a  love  debarred  and  crossed,  and 
yet  potential  above  and  beyond  all  reasonings.  It  was 
unfortunate  that  he  had  spoken  to  his  mother  at  that 
time.  She  was  miserable  in  the  absence  of  the  baron 
and  in  the  danger  of  Kelderby.  Indeed,  suspense  fretted 
every  one ;  for  no  word  had  yet  come  back  from  Baron 
Kelder,  nor  was  any  just  yet  to  be  expected. 

Meanwhile  the  baron  was  nearing  the  end  of  his  jour 
ney.  He  had  changed  his  horse  frequently,  but  never  his 
steady  gallop,  until  he  came  to  the  long  brick  streets  of 
London.  For  as  soon  as  Odinel  Kelder  accepted  the 
duty  of  rescuing  his  inheritance  he  forgot  his  years,  and 
felt  not  the  infirmities  belonging  to  them.  In  the  calm 
regularity  of  his  late  life  he  had  accumulated  a  reserve  of 
strength  which  now  answered  all  his  demands  upon  it, 
and  he  arrived  at  his  journey's  end  not  more  weary  than 
a  man  in  the  prime  of  life  might  have  been.  The  sun 
was  setting,  and  he  went  to  an  inn  at  Charing  Cross  and 
rested  there  all  night. 

Oliver  Cromwell  was  still  at  Hampton  Court,  and  Kel- 
der's  intention  was  to  rise  early  and  try  to  obtain  an 
audience  before  the  business  of  the  day  began ;  but  he 
fell  into  a  sleep  so  profound  that  nothing  wakened  him 
until  the  morning  was  far  advanced.  Indeed,  the  busi 
ness  of  the  day  was  over  when  his  name  was  given 
to  the  Protector.  So  little  ceremony  was  then  in 
vogue  that  the  officer  in  waiting  left  the  door  open  be 
tween  the  rooms,  and  Kelder  could  see  his  old  general 
walking  with  a  weary,  sorrow-laden  face  in  the  long 
gallery. 


A   MEETING.  203 

His  name  broke  Oliver's  revery  in  two.  He  stood 
still  and  let  it  call  back  to  his  memory  the  man  who  bore 
it.  The  recognition  came  with  a  smile,  and  he  walked 
toward  the  entrance  and  said,  "  Is  it  thou  indeed  ? 
Come  in  then,  for  thou  art  right  welcome."  Kelder 
loved  the  man,  and  these  friendly,  honest  words  made 
his  heart  burn.  And  as  they  walked  up  and  down  the 
long  gallery,  hung  with  pictures  representing  the  triumphs 
of  Caesar,  they  began  to  talk  of  the  triumphs  of  the  Puri 
tan  host,  and  of  the  days  when  they  had  fought  side  by 
side. 

"  Thy  heart  was  then  plain  to  me,  Kelder ;  but  now 
there  are  such  jealousies  and  such  a  spirit  of  calumny 
among  us,  that  my  condition  as  to  flesh  and  blood  is 
very  hard.  Oh,  I  say  so,  I  do  truly." 

"  I  love  thee,  and  thou  hast  done  great  things  for 
England." 

"  Through  God.  He  blessed  me  therein  as  it  pleased 
him ;  for  I  raised  round  me  such  men  as  thou  art,  Kel 
der,  who  had  the  fear  of  God,  and  made  some  conscience 
of  what  they  did." 

"  We  were  never  beaten  —  never  !  " 

"  That  is  a  matter  of  praise  to  God,  and  it  hath  this 
instruction  in  it,  —  to  own  men  who  are  religious  and 
godly.  Oh,  I  love  men  that  keep  their  integrity,  —  men 
who  have  a  single  eye,  and  a  whole  body  full  of  light." 
And  then  Kelder's  face  answered  the  face  at  his  side,  — 
the  strong  scarred  face,  threatening  fierceness  and  rigours 
to  the  unfaithful,  but  tremulous  with  sensibility  and  full  of 
love  and  sadness  to  those  whom  he  trusted. 

After  some  further  discourse  they  heard  the  sound  of 
music  and  singing,  and  Oliver,  still  talking,  led  Kelder 
into  the  great  hall,  where  there  were  two  fine  organs. 
Mr.  John  Milton  was  playing  on  the  larger,  and  a 


2O4  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

choir  of  boys  sang  to   his  music  that   fine   canon,  by 
Ben  Jonson,  — 

"  Look  how  the  winds  upon  the  waves  grow  tame, 
Take  up  land  sounds  upon  their  purple  wings, 

And  catching  each  from  other  bear  the  same 
To  every  angle  of  their  sacred  springs. 

So  will  we  take  his  praise  and  hurl  his  name 
About  the  globe  in  thousand  airy  rings." 

Cromwell  was  passionately  fond  of  noble  music,  and  it 
was  but  a  few  moments  before  the  mounting,  joyful  strains 
made  him  forget  speech.  He  listened  with  pleased  atten 
tion  until  they  died  away  in  low  wandering  symphonies. 
Then  he  turned  suddenly  to  Kelder  and  asked  what  busi 
ness  in  special  had  brought  him  to  London  so  soon  after 
his  son's  visit. 

"To  undo  the  business  about  which  my  son  came." 
And  beginning  at  Nathaniel's  visit  to  De  Burg,  Kelder 
told  Oliver  the  whole  story  precisely  as  the  events  of  it 
had  happened. 

Cromwell's  answer  was  delayed  long  enough  to  show  a 
trifle  of  hesitation.  "  I  like  not,"  he  said,  "  to  fasten  and 
to  unloose,  —  to  say  '  yea '  and  '  nay  '  as  it  were  with  the 
same  breath ;  but  if  a  mistake  hath  been  made,  then  it  is 
the  part  of  wisdom  to  unmake  it  with  all  the  speed  that 
may  be.  And  in  this  matter  it  is  evident  that  De  Burg  is 
without  common  gratitude  and  without  principle.  He 
will  go  to  Charles  Stuart,  will  he?  Yea,  if  he  can.  We 
must  look  to  that ;  indeed  we  must." 

The  wistful,  speculative  look  called  into  his  eyes  by 
revealing  music  was  all  gone.  He  was  mentally  regard 
ing  the  man,  insensible  to  the  kindness  of  kindred  and 
the  clemency  of  his  country,  who  would  defraud  the  one 
and  betray  the  other.  The  implements  of  writing  were 
at  hand,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  he  had  penned  a  private 


A   MEETING.  2O$ 

order  to  Secretary  Thurloe  concerning  Kelderby,  and  sent 
a  command  to  General  Selden  regarding  De  Burg. 

Dinner  waited  while  he  completed  this  business,  but  as 
soon  as  the  letters  had  been  intrusted  to  the  officer  in 
waiting  he  turned  pleasantly  to  the  domestic  rite,  taking 
Kelder's  company  as  a  matter  beyond  the  necessity  of  a 
formal  request.  The  table  was,  as  Nathaniel  had  de 
scribed  it,  plainer  and  less  delicately  laid  than  the  table 
at  Kelderby.  Wealthy  burghers  all  over  England  dined 
with  as  much  ceremony  and  plenty;  and  excepting  the 
Lady  Elizabeth  Claypole,  none  of  the  party  were  dressed 
with  any  extravagance  of  material  or  fashion.  Music  in 
an  adjoining  room  filled  the  pauses  in  conversation ;  and 
doubtless  there  were  times  when  Cromwell,  both  from 
private  and  public  causes,  was  glad  of  such  excuse  as  it 
made  for  his  silence. 

But  not  so  with  Odinel  Kelder.  They  had  too  many 
great  and  merciful  events  to  recall  to  each  other ;  and  the 
Lady  Elizabeth  listened  with  a  wife's  interest  and  delight 
to  Kelder's  unaffected  praises  of  her  lord.  No  one  could 
doubt  his  honesty ;  and  Cromwell,  weary  of  double-deal 
ers,  looked  with  pleasure  in  the  clear  face  of  this  true 
friend.  Even  Bridget,  his  spiritually-minded  daughter, 
"  a  woman  breathing  after  Christ,  acquainted  with  temp 
tations,  humbled  and  not  exalted  by  her  father's  great 
ness,"  could  not  refrain  acknowledging  by  a  kind  smile 
the  genuine  affection  of  this  single-hearted  adherent. 

Music  and  singing  passed  the  time  after  dinner;  a 
madrigal,  by  Mr.  Lock,  being  repeated  several  times  to 
pleasure  Kelder,  who  was  able  ever  afterward  to  recall 
some  of  its  most  taking  falls.  Then  there  was  a  psalm 
sung,  which  the  Protector  gave  out  from  the  small  black 
psalm-book  he  had  carried  through  all  his  campaigns, 
and  after  it  the  ladies  retired  to  their  own  privacy.  But 


206  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

Cromwell  and  Kelder  drew  closer  to  each  other.  They 
had  a  pipe  of  the  Virginian  weed,  and  then  walked  on  the 
terrace ;  and  as  the  stars  grew  larger  and  brighter  they 
spoke  of  those  sacred  personal  aspects  of  religion  which 
are  the  secret  strength  of  that  "  spiritual  confidence  "  we 
are  commanded  to  "  restrain  not." 

The  following  day  Kelder  received  back  his  bond, 
and  with  it  the  assurance  of  the  Protector  that  Kel- 
derby  was  freely  in  his  own  power  again.  He  called 
for  a  taper,  and  they  burned  the  parchment  silently 
upon  the  hearth ;  but  when  the  blaze  was  dead,  and  the 
bond  was  a  shrivelled  band  of  gray  ashes,  Cromwell 
spoke  in  a  low,  warning  voice,  — 

"  Take  it  not  ill  what  I  say  —  I  know  you  will  not  — 
or  else  you  will  be  ruined  yet.  And  truly  't  is  not  I 
that  say  it ;  it  is  the  counsel  of  the  wisest  man.  '  He 
that  is  surety  for  a  stranger  shall  smart  for  it ;  and  he 
that  hateth  suretiship  is  sure.'  " 

But  though  his  affairs  were  thus  comfortably  settled, 
Kelder  did  not  immediately  leave  London.  Cromwell 
clung  to  him  with  a  simple  regard  he  found  it  hard  to 
resist ;  and  nearly  every  night  for  three  weeks  the  two 
men  walked  the  terrace  at  Hampton  Court,  and  talked 
together  of  the  things  which  both  loved,  —  "  the  wisdom 
of  God  in  a  mystery,"  —  all  those  extreme  thoughts 
which  men  seldom  care  to  reach,  beyond  which  no  man 
can  go.  Perhaps  neither  had  an  intellect  trained  for 
subtle  disputing,  nor  did  they  even  try  to  measure  with 
the  foot-rule  of  their  understanding  the  immutable  wis 
dom  of  God ;  but  in  religious  matters  both  had  a  child's 
heart,  and  both  were  seeking  to  enter  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  by  the  gate  of  spiritual  wistfulness. 


XI. 

OLIVIA  AND   CROMWELL. 

"  Prosperity  and  adversity,  life  and  death,  poverty  and  riches,  come 
of  the  Lord.  .  .  .  Love,  and  the  way  of  good  works,  are  from  him." 

..."  the  constant  change  and  transmutation 
Of  action  and  of  contemplation,  — 
Downward,  the  Scripture  brought  from  on  high ; 
Upward,  exalted  again  to  the  sky : 
Downward,  the  literal  interpretation; 
Upward,  the  vision  and  mystery." 

T  ADY  KELDER  had  won  a  victory  over  her  son, 
•*— <  but  she  had  no  sense  of  triumph.  What  if  she 
got  her  wish  about  Olivia,  and  lost  it  about  Kelderby? 
The  God  whom  she  served  was  a  jealous  God,  balancing 
his  favours  according  to  the  service  given.  She  could 
not  expect  too  much  from  him.  To  clear  Kelderby  of 
all  its  obligations  to  De  Burg,  to  clear  Nathaniel  of  his 
obligations  to  Olivia,  was  perhaps  beyond  her  desert. 
Of  two  evils,  she  must  choose  the  lesser.  After  hours 
of  restless  anxiety,  she  resolved  to  sacrifice  her  personal 
feelings  to  the  more  permanent  good.  If  only  Kelderby 
were  saved,  she  would  try  —  yes,  she  would  try  —  to 
accept  Olivia. 

The  mysterious  travail  of  sleep  brought  her  only  vi 
sions  of  confusion  and  anxiety.  When  the  morning 
came,  she  resolved  to  call  upon  Olivia,  and  judge  with 
her  own  eyes  and  intelligence  as  to  the  capabilities  of 
the  girl  for  the  honour  Nathaniel  designed  her.  The 


2O8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

concession  was  a  great  one,  —  how  great  Nathaniel  could 
not  understand,  because  the  way  to  Sandys,  so  hard  for 
his  mother,  was  just  the  way  he  liked  best  of  all  to  go. 

"  'T  is  the  greatest  trial  of  my  life,  I  believe,"  she  said 
to  herself;  and  she  honestly  felt  it  to.be  so.  On  the 
contrary,  Nathaniel  was  eager  to  accompany  her;  but 
she  refused  his  attendance  with  a  sharpness  that  had 
something  of  reproach  in  it. 

"  No,  sir  !  I  will  take  my  woman  with  me.  I  have 
no  mind  to  be  audience  to  your  veiled  sweethearting. 
Simon  the  shrimp- fisher  was  here  yesterday  about  his 
cottage.  Give  a  little  of  your  time  to  the  necessities 
of  the  people  until  your  father  returns.  And  to-day 
there  may  be  a  letter  from  him ;  't  is  fit  surely  that 
either  you  or  I  be  here  to  receive  it." 

Do  women  dress  for  men?  Never  as  they  do  for 
their  own  sex.  Lady  Kelder  took  from  their  manifold 
scented  wrappings  her  very  finest  garments,  —  an  over 
dress  of  dark  violet  relvet,  with  a  quilted  satin  petticoat 
of  the  colour  of  old  ivory.  A  thick  gold  chain  held  her 
pomander-case,  the  case  itself  being  of  fretted  Moorish 
work,  studded  with  gems.  She  put  it  to  her  nostrils, 
and  with  a  wretched  little  laugh  said  to  Jael,  "  Faith  ! 
I  shall  need  the  camphor,  I  know.  My  heart  hath  a 
strange  fainting-sickness  already.  And  give  me  my 
fan,  Jael,  —  the  one  of  foreign  feathers  with  the  silver 
handle,  —  and  my  head-dress  of  ivory  satin  edged  with 
Flemish  point." 

She  stood  a  moment  before  her  mirror,  looking  stead 
ily  at  the  woman  reflected  there,  —  a  handsome,  reso 
lute  woman,  tenacious  of  her  own  opinions,  and  finding 
out  for  them  warranty  of  Holy  Scripture  or  holy  men. 
When  she  turned  away,  Jael  gave  her  a  long  mantle  of 
black  Genoa  velvet,  and  gloves  of  Spanish  leather,  richly 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL. 

embroidered  and  perfumed  with  orange  flowers.  Na 
thaniel  was  taken  with  a  heartache  when  he  saw  her. 
He  understood  that  the  visit,  undertaken  with  so  much 
ceremony,  intended  little  kindness ;  yet  he  felt  himself 
the  influence  of  such  royal  apparel,  and  conducted  his 
mother  to  her  coach  with  a  deferential  affection  which 
would  not  be  reasoned  with. 

That  morning  Olivia  was  strangely  sad  and  fearful. 
A  journey  to  London  was  as  great  an  event  then  as  a 
journey  across  oceans  is  now;  and  the  very  necessity> 
for  it  implied  a  danger  for  her  father  that  she  had  not 
apprehended.  She  was  employed  in  preparations  for 
it  when  Lady  Kelder's  step  upon  the  stone  passage 
arrested  her  attention.  Although  it  was  a  firm,  slow 
step,  Olivia  knew  at  once  that  it  was  the  step  of  a 
woman.  She  lifted  her  head  and  listened ;  for  Hannah 
Mettelane  had  gone  into  Kendal  to  make  some  pur 
chases,  and  she  knew  that  the  reception  of  any  stranger 
must  devolve  upon  her.  As  the  visitor  approached,  she 
laid  down  her  work  and  stood  up  to  meet  her. 

At  the  same  time  Gideon  threw  wide  the  door,  and 
with  some  circumstance  announced,  "  Lady  Kelder." 
The  two  women  looked  steadily  at  each  other,  —  Olivia's 
face  expectant,  indeterminate,  ready  to  reflect  instantly 
a  smile  or  a  pleasant  light ;  Lady  Kelder's  intent,  cu 
rious,  critical,  for  as  yet  she  had  seen  Olivia  only  in 
a  very  hurried  and  cursory  manner.  Once  they  had 
passed  each  other  on  Kendal  streets ;  and  once,  when 
Lady  Kelder  called  upon  Jane  D'Acre,  Olivia  was  just 
taking  leave  of  her  friend.  She  had  therefore  but  a 
slight  remembrance  of  the  girl ;  now,  however,  she  re 
garded  her  with  a  distinct  purpose  of  examination. 

She  saw  a  tall,  slender,  girlish  figure  in  a  white  linen 
dress,  with  a  square  collar  of  English  lace  encircling  her 


2IO  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

throat.  She  saw  an  oval  face,  delicately  rounded ;  eyes 
soft,  deep,  heavenly,  with  large  and  solemn  gaze ;  a 
sweet  mouth,  rosy  and  tender ;  a  steady,  round  chin ; 
a  colour  like  a  wild  rose ;  and  a  great  abundance  of  soft 
brown  hair.  She  felt  also  something  of  the  unknown 
and  unseen  in  her  very  simplicity,  in  the  look  and  air 
of  the  girl,  which  checked  every  impulse  toward  what 
was  trifling  or  disrespectful. 

But  what  the  tongue  or  pen  stumblingly  or  slowly 
.  expresses,  the  eyes  see  in  a  moment ;  and  Olivia's  ap 
pearance  and  manner  were  flashed  upon  Lady  Kelder's 
consciousness  as  she  walked  with  stately  grace  from  the 
door  to  the  centre  of  the  room.  There  Olivia  met  her. 
Lady  Kelder  courtesied  slightly,  expecting  from  Olivia 
the  deeper  reverence  due  from  youth  to  age.  But 
Olivia's  self-respecting  creed  forbade  her  to  bend  her 
knee  to  mortal  man  or  woman.  She  simply  extended 
her  hand  and  said,  "  Thou  art  very  welcome." 

There  was  then  a  momentary  pause ;  but  Lady  Kelder 
was  not  a  woman  who  hesitated,  or  who  advanced  to 
the  expression  of  her  opinions  by  roundabout  ways. 
She  took  the  seat  offered,  and  said,  — 

"  Mistress  Prideaux,  I  ask  you  seriously,  and  I  pray 
you  resolve  me  truly,  if  't  is  your  purpose  to  make  a 
marriage  with  Captain  Kelder?" 

"I  have  promised  to  marry  him,  —  if  God  will." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  I  observe  that  young  people  usually 
make  God's  will  fit  their  own  desires." 

"  My  conscience  is  a  swift  witness.  I  desire  only 
what  God  wills." 

"  My  son  wished  to  marry  you  to-day.  In  such  a 
hurry  of  self-pleasing  wherein  will  you  discover  any 
will  higher  than  your  own  ?  " 

"  I  willed  not  to  marry  thy  son  to-day.     'T  was  out 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  211 

of  a  sudden  great  fear  and  love  that  he  spoke.  If  thou 
knowest  the  circumstances,  thou  must  understand  his 
desire." 

"  Indeed,  Mistress,  I  do  not  need  you  to  explain  my 
son  to  me.  And  I  am  agreeably  pleased  to  find  that 
you  have  so  much  sense  as  to  put  the  bridle  on  an  offer 
so  beyond  all  reason.  I  must  tell  you  that  Kelderby 
itself  stands  in  the  '  nay '  or  '  yea '  of  the  Protector,  or 
else,  in  a  case  still  worse,  the  honour  of  the  De  Burgs.. 
It  is  inconceivable  that  Nathaniel  should  be  wife-seeking 
when  his  inheritance  and  his  home  and  the  honour  of 
his  name  stand  in  such  jeopardy." 

"Thou  must  know  that  my  father's  honour  and  my 
father's  estate  stand  in  still  more  perilous  conditions. 
How  then  could  I  take  the  thought  of  marriage  into 
my  heart  at  this  time?" 

"  'T  is  indeed  a  time  laden  with  strange  things,  and 
you  must  see  how  inconvenient  marrying  and  giving  in 
marriage  must  be  in  the  press  and  hurry  of  so  many 
great  events." 

"  I  think  not  of  it.  My  heart  is  wholly  set  upon  my 
father's  peril." 

"  Nathaniel  says  that  you  come  not  to  Kelderby 
because  I  ask  you  not." 

"  Nathaniel  puts  my  love  and  his  own  below  what  fits 
their  right  when  he  says  so.  Truly,  I  will  not  come  to 
Kelderby  without  thy  welcome ;  but  I  marry  not  Kel 
derby,  but  Nathaniel  Kelder." 

"  'T  is  an  unnecessary  pride  that  you  show.  A  mother 
has  some  rights  in  the  son  she  has  borne." 

"  A  true  wife  will  never  wrong  them.  I  seek  not 
Nathaniel  Kelder;  he  seeks  me." 

"  Ah  !  I  thought  surely  that  you  loved  Nathaniel." 

"Thou  must  not  conceive  different,   and  put  wrong 


212  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

words  in  my  mouth.  But  I  love  him  not  better  than 
duty  and  honour  and  truth.  If  thou  art  afraid  I  am 
going  to  wrong  thy  son  in  any  respect,  put  all  thy  fears 
away.  I  love  not  Nathaniel  Kelder  for  myself,  but 
beyond  myself.  When  thou  understandest  that,  thou 
wilt  have  a  true  welcome  for  me  ;  and  perhaps,  if  God 
will,  I  may  then  come  to  Kelderby." 

"What  will  you — " 
*      "I  will  not  at  all.     God  wills." 

"You  must  know  that  the  Kelders  are  a  very  old 
family.  'T  is  indeed  a  trial  when  they  mate  not  with 
their-  equals.  I  say  nothing  against  Master  Prideaux, 
who  is  doubtless  an  excellent  and  respectable  man." 

"  I  count  the  probity  and  sagacity  of  my  father  so 
much  higher  than  the  traditional  glory  of  dead  men 
as  living  virtue  is  higher  than  dead  virtue." 

"  Dead  virtues  are  honourable,  Mistress." 

"Yea,  for  the  dead." 

"  On  this  matter  truly  we  may  have  divided  opinions  ; 
but  if  it  comes  to  giving  occasion  for  evil-speaking,  we 
must  be  at  one.  There  hath  been  talk  and  gossip  about 
you  and  Captain  Kelder,  and  the  tongues  of  others  are 
not  in  our  control.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  give  the 
public  assurance  in  regard  to  your  position?  " 

"  If  I  suffered  talk  and  gossip  to  move  me  I  should 
fear  the  tongue  of  man  more  than  the  eye  of  God." 

"  As  you  like,  Mistress.  For  myself,  I  have  ever  found 
my  misfortunes  more  supportable  than  the  comments  of 
my  friends  on  them.  To  be  sure,  if  you  heed  not  the 
words  said  of  you  —  " 

"  If  people  speak  ill  of  me,  I  ask  what  kind  of  people 
they  admire,  and  then  it  often  happens  that  I  am  quite 
consoled.  Thou  wilt  find  it  in  general  a  comfortable 
answer.  Wilt  thou  eat  and  drink  with  me?  " 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  213 

"  I  am  neither  hungry  nor  thirsty,  and  my  servants 
and  horses  wait." 

Olivia  had  risen  as  she  spoke,  and  Lady  Kelder  in 
voluntarily  followed  her  example.  Young  and  slight  as 
the  girl  looked,  she  carried  herself  with  great  dignity. 
In  Sandys  the  mistress  of  Sandys  was  the  equal  of  the 
mistress  of  Kelderby ;  for  in  her  home  a  woman  has 
immeasurable  though  intangible  advantages.  She  stands 
on  her  own  ground,  and  thereby  acquires  a  moral  right 
which  prejudices  any  antagonist. 

The  interview  was  evidently  over,  and  Lady  Kelder 
felt  that  she  had  gained  nothing  from  it.  The  serenity 
of  Olivia  had  been  proof  against  every  little  wind  of  pas 
sion  or  ill-will.  She  had  not  lost  an  inch  of  ground. 
She  had  made  no  concessions  and  no  promises,  and  she 
had  told  Lady  Kelder  nothing  but  what  she  already 
knew. 

"  She  has  a  thousand  virtues.  If  she  had  a  single  vice 
she  would  be  more  endurable,"  said  Lady  Kelder,  as 
soon  as  her  coach  drove  away.  "  Take  my  fan,  Jael,  and 
give  me  a  breath  of  air.  I  never  thought  so  well,  and  so 
ill,  of  my  sex." 

"  She  hath  a  name  beyond  all  praise." 

"  A  dowdy,  Jael ;  a  very  dowdy,  in  a  linen  frock.  It 
passes  my  comprehension.  Nathaniel  hath  seen  some  of 
the  finest  women  of  the  day." 

"  Well,  my  Lady,  you  looked  like  a  queen,  and  I  dare 
say  she  was  a  bit  flustered  at  the  meeting  with  you." 

"  Flustered  !  She  had  the  composure  of  a  goddess,  — 
I  mean  of  a  saint." 

"  Was  there  any  falling  out  with  her,  my  Lady?  " 

"  You  might  as  well  try  to  fall  out  with  a  prayer-book, 
Jael.  But  I  would  she  had  spoken  the  temper  I  saw  in 
her  eyes." 


214  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

They  were  riding  swiftly  through  the  estate  of  Sandys, 
and  Lady  Kelder  could  not  but  notice  the  fine  order  in 
which  park  and  meadows  and  cornfields  were  kept. 

"  I  believe  the  old  goldsmith  weeds  them  as  carefully 
as  he  dusted  his  shop  and  wares.  I  dare  be  bound  he 
enters  every  furrow  in  his  ledger.  But  't  is  a  grand  old 
place,  that  is  beyond  denying.  And  't  is  possible  the 
proud  little  maid  may  have  the  grace  to  take  nurture. 
They  who  live  in  Kelderby  grow  Kelder-like.  What 
hinders?" 

"That  is  but  a  fluffment  of  talk,  my  Lady.  Every 
thing  hinders.  I  never  heard  tell  in  my  time  of  nurture 
being  stronger  than  nature.  The  cuckoo  lays  in  the 
sparrow's  nest,  and  the  bird  hatched  is  cuckoo  to  its 
last  feather.  The  cuckoo  lays  in  the  thrush's  nest,  but 
no  up-bringing  will  make  it  sing  the  thrush's  song ;  it 
will  cry  '  cuckoo '  to  the  long  end  of  its  life.  The  Quak 
eress  may  come  to  the  Kelders'  nest,  but  she  '11  never 
change  her  nature  with  her  name." 

"  By  troth  and  faith  !  you  are  right,  Jael.  For  I  came 
out  of  Singleton  Seat,  and  though  I  be  married  to  Kel- 
der's  name,  I  shall  be  Joan  Singleton  till  I  be  no  more 
on  earth." 

Then  she  was  silent  a  while,  and  Jael  watched  her 
fingering  her  pomander  chain  or  the  sheath  of  her  fan, 
and  saw  how  her  handsome  face  grew  more  and  more 
fretful  and  disappointed.  For  Lady  Kelder  was  upright 
enough  with  her  own  heart  to  be  aware  that  her  dislike 
to  Olivia  sprang  from  the  girl's  trifling  peculiarities  jar 
ring  her  own  antagonistic  peculiarities.  She  knew  quite 
well  that  these  were  a  thousand  times  overbalanced  by 
Olivia's  excellences,  and  that  she  ought  to  conquer  her 
unreasonable  antipathy ;  but  she  did  not ;  she  could  not. 

She  had  two  regrets  in  regard  to  her  visit :  first,  that 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  21$ 

she  had  worn  her  best  clothing,  for  Olivia  had  not  seemed 
to  notice  it,  —  certainly  she  had  shown  no  symptom  of 
being  in  any  way  subjugated  by  its  splendour ;  second, 
that  she  had  been  neither  as  kind  nor  as  disagreeable  as 
she  had  intended.  The  sense  of  failure  was  with  her. 
She  had  not  conquered  Olivia ;  neither  had  she  irritated 
her. 

When  she  returned  home  Nathaniel's  face  made  her 
still  more  angry,  it  hoped  and  asked  so  much.  The 
longing  curiosity  on  it  was  almost  painful,  and  she  in 
stantly  reflected  that  it  was  "  that  girl "  he  was  anxious 
and  curious  about.  She  spoke  of  the  heat,  of  the  dust, 
of  the  weight  of  her  dress,  and  went  to  her  room  to 
change  it  without  a  word  or  a  sign  which  could  enable 
Nathaniel  to  interpret  her.  Of  course  it  was  cruel,  but 
she  felt  as  if  at  that  hour  she  did  well  to  be  cruel. 

Truly  she  pitied  herself  as  she  looked  in  her  mirror 
and  thought  of  the  unpleasant  and  unprofitable  journey 
she  had  taken.  And  Nathaniel's  depressed  and  injured 
air  did  not  tend  to  make  her  at  all  sorry  for  him.  It  was 
beyond  reason  that  he  should  add  this  care  to  her 
anxieties  about  her  husband  and  her  home.  So  when  at 
length  he  asked,  "  Did  you  see  Olivia,  Mother?  "  she  was 
rather  glad  to  answer  gloomily,  — 

"  Indeed  I  saw  her." 

"  I  am  afraid  —  dear  mother,  I  hope  you  have  not 
quarrelled  with  her." 

She  was  standing  with  her  back  to  him,  at  the  open 
door  of  the  china  closet.  She  turned  round  in  a  passion. 
"  God's  mercy  on  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  May  not  the  girl 
just  as  likely  have  quarrelled  with  me  ?  I  will  not  talk 
with  you  about  her.  If  you  have  no  other  subject,  I  will 
pity  myself  so  far  as  to  be  silent." 

Then  Nathaniel  suddenly  rose  and  took  a  letter  from 


2l6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

the  chimney-piece.  "  I  had  forgotten,"  he  said.  "  'T  is 
from  my  father,  as  you  may  see.  The  bearer  is  in  the 
servants'  hall." 

"  And  you  could  think  of  any  other  thing  or  person  ? 
You  are  unworthy  of  your  father,  Nathaniel.  But  I  won 
der  not !  I  wonder  not !  " 

She  was  breaking  the  seal  with  trembling  fingers  as 
she  spoke,  and  after  a  few  moments'  consideration  of  its 
contents  she  said,  in  a  low,  intense  voice,  "  Kelderby  is 
saved  !  Kelderby  is  saved  !  "  And  in  the  moment  of 
her  joy  she  forgot  Olivia  and  fully  forgave  Nathaniel. 

Privately,  also,  she  was  now  quite  reconciled  to  the 
events  of  the  morning  visit.  She  was  glad  there  had 
been  no  nearer  sympathy  between  Olivia  and  herself.  If 
she  had  ever  been  weak  enough  to  contemplate  accept 
ing  Olivia  as  a  compromise  with  the  Almighty's  sense  of 
her  deserts,  she  had  now  a  double  gratification  in  feel 
ing  that  both  her  desires  had  been  granted  her.  Kel 
derby  was  saved,  and  she  had  been  saved  from  any 
promises  regarding  Olivia.  Her  home  had  been  given 
back  to  her  without  any  mortifying  concession  on  her 
part.  Was  she  made  gentle  and  kindly  by  this  favour? 
No  !  She  was  human  enough  to  experience  immediately 
'one  of  those  heart-hardenings  which  too  often  follow  a 
lifted  anxiety  or  a  desire  granted. 

The  animus  of  this  unhappy  meeting  affected  Olivia  in 
a  manner  still  more  personal  and  profound.  For  though 
she  went  with  Lady  Kelder  to  her  coach,  and  preserved 
a  quiet  civility  of  manner  to  the  last  moment  of  their  in 
terview,  she  was  quivering  with  controlled  emotion. 
And  in  the  solitude  of  her  room  the  conflict  was  renewed. 
Her  enemy  was  still  with  her.  The  battle  had  only  been 
carried  from  the  outward  court  to  the  inner  sanctuary  of 
life. 


OLIVIA    AND   CROMWELL.  2 1/ 

She  stood  silent  with  her  hands  dropped  and  clasped 
before  her,  and  her  eyes  dilating,  as  though  looking  far, 
far  down  into  the  depths  of  her  soul.  Lady  Kelder  had 
wounded  her  in  every  sense.  Her  love  had  been  ques 
tioned,  her  pride  humbled,  she  had  been  made  to  feel 
that  she  was  the  troubler  of  Nathaniel's  house.  She  had 
been  subjected  to  a  criticism  judicially  cold  ;  forced  sud 
denly  to  meet  a  trial  for  which  she  was  quite  unprepared, 
and  which  in  her  present  circumstances  appeared  a  gra 
tuitous  sting  added  to  sorrow  strange  and  unavoidable. 

At  first  she  could  hardly  help  blaming  Nathaniel.  He 
ought  to  have  prevented  Lady  Kelder's  visit ;  or,  if  that 
was  impossible,  he  ought  to  have  accompanied  his 
mother.  It  was  cruel  to  leave  her  to  face  alone  the  im 
perious  discontent  of  the  disappointed  woman.  A  tu 
mult  of  outraged  feeling  made  spiritual  anarchy  in  her 
usually  reasonable  soul,  and  sudden  flashes  of  resentment, 
ending  in  spontaneous  thoughts  and  plans  of  revenge, 
made  her  cheeks  burn  and  her  mouth  quiver. 

The  struggle  was  harder  and  longer  because  her  rev 
erent  spirit  did  not  suffer  her  to  press  into  God's  presence 
while  under  such  angry  influences.  There  is  a  veil  be 
tween  the  holiest  part  of  our  nature  and  the  Divinity, 
even  as  in  the  visible  temple  there  was  a  veil  before 
the  Shekinah ;  and  Olivia  did  not  dare,  with  an  impa 
tient  heart,  to  pass  beyond  it.  She  stood  silent  until  her 
will  had  conquered,  —  until  pride,  anger,  hate,  revenge, 
and  wounded  self-love  were  lost  in  that  wondrous  depth 
out  of  which  grows  the  love  of  God ;  till  she  heard  the 
tender  question  that  besought  her  complaint,  — 

"  Thou,  then  ?     Who  art  Thou  ?  " 

With  streaming  eyes  and  swelling  heart  she  bowed 
herself,  and  answered,  "  Thou  knowest  me,  and  all  my 
sorrows." 


21 8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

And  yet  how  sweet  it  was  to  tell  them  over,  and  to  feel 
hi  the  telling  the  infinite  sympathy  of  the  Divine  heart ! 
Then  what  serene  amazement  took  the  place  of  all  fears 
and  of  all  conclusions  !  Her  trouble  grew  lighter  than  a 
grasshopper,  and  she  rose  up  from  the  internal  revelation 
joyfully  resigned  to  all  that  God  willed. 

Lady  Kelder  had  passed  beyond  her  horizon,  and  she 
looked  outward  with  far-seeing  gaze.  A  glory  that  never 
was  on  sea  or  land  transfigured  her  face ;  a  contagious 
warmth,  a  thrill  of  positive  faith,  radiated  from  her  lovely 
form.  For  the  most  real  of  all  splendours,  the  most 
wonderful  of  all  miracleS,  is  within  us.  And  those  who 
doubt  must  consider  that  the  human  soul  is  the  place 
where  two  worlds  meet,  —  where  the  Infinite  touches  the 
finite. 

The  reflex  influence  of  this  spiritual  communion  did 
not  desert  Olivia  for  many  days.  It  gave  to  her  final  in 
terviews  with  her  lover  a  delightful  peace.  She  passed 
over  Lady  Kelder's  visit  with  a  serene  indifference  that 
made  it  hard  for  Nathaniel  to  .talk  of  the  subject;  and 
yet  he  understood  from  Olivia's  reticence  that  the  meeting 
had  not  been  a  pleasant  one. 

On  the  morning  of  her  departure  they  stood  together 
in  the  embrasure  of  a  large  window  in  the  parlour.  The 
lower  casements  were  open  to  catch  the  dewy  per 
fumes  of  the  garden,  and  Nathaniel  clasped  her  left  hand 
between  his  own  hands.  She  was  very  pale,  and  the 
hurry  of  the  preparations  for  the  journey  moved  her  so 
much  that  he  felt  it  slightly  flutter  in  his  grasp. 

Jacob  and  Jane  Willis  both  sat  silent.  With  heads 
thrown  slightly  backward  and  closed  eyes  they  communed 
with  their  own  souls,  seeking  an  assurance  for  their  un 
usual  journey.  Fox  was  walking  in  the  garden.  He  had 
his  hat  in  his  hand  and  the  sunshine  brightened  his  long 


OLIVIA   AND    CROMWELL.  21$ 

fair  hair.  His  meditations  were  doubtless  holy  and  happy, 
for  his  face  was  calm  and  reverent,  though  his  eyes  were 
toward  the  boxwood  and  the  flowers.  Hannah  Mette- 
lane  was  ordering  the  breakfast,  and  the  servants  were 
packing  the  luggage  of  the  travellers  in  the  boot  of  the 
coach.  No  one  was  regarding  the  lovers ;  they  were 
practically  alone. 

"  My  father  will  doubtless  be  home  in  a  day  or  two, 
beloved ;  then  I  shall  make  every  haste  to  overtake 
you." 

"  Thou  must  not  put  me  before  thy  duty ;  but  if  thou 
canst  wisely  come  —  "  and  she  turned  slightly  and  raised 
her  eyes  to  him. 

He  could  not  resist  the  something  he  saw  in  them. 
"  You  hope,  Olivia  !  You  are  happy  !  "  And  he  lifted 
her  face  in  his  hands  and  kissed  it. 

"  I  love  thee,  Nathaniel.  Love  always  hopes.  I  will 
keep  thy  memory  to  make  my  happiness  with,  dear  one. 
And  thou  must  not  doubt.  I  think  true  love  is  a  prom 
ise,  and  surely  it  is  God's  good  pleasure  to  give  what  he 
has  promised." 

"  My  soul,  I  love  you  !     I  will  love  you  forever." 

"  Thou  knowest  I  love  thee  truly." 

"  We  have  chosen  each  other  out  of  all  the  world." 

"  I  have  chosen  thee." 

"  You  will  be  my  wife  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  thee  so." 

"But  when?" 

"  That  I  know  not.  The  rose  blooms  at  its  own  hour ; 
wouldst  thou  tear  its  beauty  out  of  the  bud?  Love  will 
grow  to  marriage,  dear  one ;  but  shall  not  love  have  the 
glory  of  its  perfect  hour?  " 

"  Can  I  love  you  more  perfectly?  " 

"  I  think  thou  canst,  or  thou  couldst  wait  with    more 


22O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

patience.  If  them  lovest  me  for  eternity,  there  is  all  eter 
nity  to  love  me  in.  And  this  time  is  my  father's  time. 
He  asks  me  for  the  first  and  best  of  it.  George  Fox 
thinks  that  I  may  save  his  life.  Few  daughters  have 
such  honour  given  them.  When  my  dear  father  is  out  of 
all  trouble  —  " 

"Then  you  will  marry  me?  " 

"  When  thy  father  and  mother  are  willing  for  our  hap 
piness,  then  I  will  be  thy  wife.  I  will  love  thee  first  of 
all,  and  best  of  all.  I  will  honour  thee  with  my  whole 
soul,  —  I  will  love  thee  perfectly  because  I  so  honour 
thee." 

He  saw  her  soul  in  her  eyes ;  it  informed  and  vivified 
her  face,  her  white,  slender  throat,  her  small  hands,  until 
the  flesh  and  blood  grew  translucent  and  ethereal. 

To  pure- hearted  young  girls  heaven  gives  such  trans 
parent  fleshly  veils  ;  they  have  no  false  or  sinful  thoughts 
to  hide.  But  as  the  heart  grows  hard  and  insincere  the 
soul  puts  on  many  veils,  and  the  light  within  becomes 
darkness.  Then  flesh  and  blood  is  simple  clay. 

When  at  length  the  hour  of  parting  came  he  clasped 
her  to  his  heart  with  passionate,  sorrowful  love.  At  this 
moment,  with  his  tears  upon  her  cheeks  and  his  kisses  on 
her  lips,  she  would  not  wrong  his  love  and  hers  with  any 
pretences.  She  suffered  him  to  see  that  she  wept  and 
loved  with  him.  She  murmured  sweet  broken  words  of 
affection;  with  the  long,  long  gaze  of  lingering  love  she 
watched  his  tall  dark  figure  till  the  green  vault  of  the 
sycamores  hid  him  from  her  view. 

Great  emotion  makes  many  men  silent,  almost  stern; 
and  Nathaniel  quickly  left  Sandys,  though  Mistress  Met- 
telane  urged  him  to  rest  there  for  a  little  while.  For 
Hannah  was  one  of  those  women,  sweet  and  homely  as 
honey,  who  would  draw  the  sting  of  all  men's  sorrow  into 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL,  221 

their  own  breast ;  and  she  pitied  the  young  man,  hiding 
with  such  proud  reticence  his  anxious  love  and  grief. 

However,  he  consoled  himself  with  the  reflection  that 
the  baron  would  certainly  be  home  in  a  day  or  two.  His 
affairs  settled,  there  was  nothing  to  delay  him  in  London  ; 
and  Nathaniel  raised  himself  in  his  stirrups  and  instinc 
tively  searched  the  horizon  for  the  tall  thin  figure  he 
expected  to  see.  The  letter  already  received  had  made 
no  mention  of  his  return.  "  I  have  seen  Cromwell  and 
Kelderby  is  quite  released.  I  am  in  comfortable  health." 
That  was  all,  and  at  the  moment  of  their  reception  such 
words  had  seemed  full  of  all  content ;  but  now  Nathaniel 
wished  his  father  had  added,  "  I  take  the  road  at  once 
for  the  north." 

In  the  mean  time  Olivia  pursued  her  painful  journey 
southward.  The  quaint  old  towns  where  they  rested,  or 
baited  or  changed  horses,  gave  her  a  momentary  interest, 
and  Fox  usually  took  her  for  a  short  walk  while  they  were 
necessarily  delayed ;  but  the  whole  moving  drama  of 
streets  and  lanes  and  of  white  roads,  along  which  crept 
the  great  pack-wagons  with  their  smocked  drivers  and 
belled  horses,  affected  her  much  as  the  phantasmagoria 
of  a  dream.  Hour  after  hour  she  sat  in  silence,  listening 
vaguely  to  the  measured  talk  of  Fox  and  Willis,  or  with 
shut  eyes  recalling  the  fair  garden  and  house  of  Sandys, 
and  the  happy  and  sorrowful  scenes  with  which  they 
were  blended. 

When  she  arrived  in  London  she  was  suffering  much 
from  headache  and  exhaustion.  The  last  day  of  the  jour 
ney  had  been  an  agonizing  interval,  which  she  had  borne 
with  closed  eyes  and  lips.  The  men  scarcely  understood 
her  sufferings,  and  Mistress  Willis  felt  a  slight  scorn  for 
the  girl  so  much  more  easily  wearied  than  herself,  —  a 
woman  of  sixty  years.  She  reflected,  as  women  usually 


222  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

reflect,  upon  the  superiority  of  their  generation  and  the 
decadence  of  the  young  people  growing  up  at  their 
side. 

They  went  to  the  Blue  Boar  Inn,  in  King  Street ;  and 
for  that  night  Olivia  permitted  every  thought  of  love  or 
sorrow  to  escape  her.  Her  slight  form  succumbed  to 
physical  suffering,  her  heart  ached,  she  was  soul  weary ; 
when  the  landlady  left  her  alone  in  the  darkish  room  she 
could  have  cried  with  joy  for  the  simple  relief  of  solitude. 
Weary  and  suffering,  she  laid  her  head  down  upon  her 
pillow  and  He  gave  his  beloved  sleep,  —  sleep  so  deep 
and  sweet  and  long  that  Fox  became  uneasy  and  asked 
the  landlady  to  visit  her  guest. 

The  dusty  sunshine  of  the  narrow,  noisy  street  stole  in 
through  the  crevices  of  the  shutters  and  lay  in  golden 
bars  across  the  great  oaken  bed.  Its  spotless  linen 
looked  mystically  white  in  the  gloom  of  the  veiled  day, 
and  the  sweet  face  at  rest  upon  the  pillow  had  the  lovelier 
pallor  of  life  held  in  the  solemn  pause  of  sleep  deeper 
than  the  tide  of  dreams.  The  landlady  walked  softly  to 
the  bedside  and  stood  looking  at  the  sleeping  girl.  How 
exquisitely  still  was  the  breathing  miracle  !  The  small, 
bow-shaped  mouth  had  the  faintest  smile ;  the  curtains  of 
the  eyes  dropped  their  dark  fringes  on  cheeks  softly 
rounded,  and  white  with  the  warm  shadowy  white  of  a 
lily  leaf.  A  band  of  sunshine  turned  the  loosened  hair 
into  a  glory.  The  small  hands  were  lightly  clasped,  and 
lying  on  the  snowy  white  of  the  linen,  showed,  like  the 
face  and  throat,  the  duskish  pallor  of  flesh  and  blood. 
All  around  the  bed  hung  the  scent  of  lavender,  bringing 
thoughts  of  warm,  sunny  gardens  to  wander  about  the 
silent  sleeping-place. 

"  God  bless  the  girl !  "  the  woman  whispered.  "  I  was 
once  as  young  as  she  be ;  "  and  she  softly  drew  the  cur- 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  22$ 

tains  so  as  to  shade  her  from  the  light.  But  at  the  door 
she  turned  and  took  into  her  memory  the  dark,  draped 
bedstead,  with  its  soft,  white  interior,  and  the  fair  young 
sleeper  in  its  dim,  slumberous  peace. 

The  next  day  Olivia  arose  thoroughly  refreshed,  and 
conscious  of  that  spiritual  exaltation  which  desires  to 
face  a  crisis,  and  is  straitened  till  its  duty  is  accomplished. 
They  went  early  in  the  day  to  Hampton  Court,  but 
Cromwell  had  gone  to  Westminster,  so  they  were  de 
layed  for  many  hours.  Indeed,  Fox  was  advising  Olivia 
to  return  to  the  city  until  the  morning,  when  the  officer 
brought  him  into  the  Protector's  presence.  He  had  not 
sent  in  Olivia's  name  lest  the  interview  should  be  denied ; 
and  when  she  entered  with  Fox,  the  Protector  looked  up 
with  considerable  annoyance  from  the  writing  on  which 
he  was  engaged. 

"  George  Fox,  you  are  come  here  complaining  again. 
I  know  you  are,  and  I  will  not  suffer  it." 

"  Verily,  Oliver,  thy  conscience  tells  thee  the  truth. 
Thou  promised  to  bring  in  a  bill  putting  faith  before  alf 
forms.  That  would  set  free  hundreds  of  good  men,  — 
thy  old  companions  in  arms,  —  who  now  die  daily  for 
Christ's  sake." 

Cromwell  listened  impatiently.  "  I  will  answer  anon. 
Who  may  this  maid  be?  Thy  daughter?  " 

"  She  is  a  daughter  of  sorrow,  and  so  thy  daughter  and 
my  daughter  and  the  daughter  of  all  good  men."  Then 
he  looked  at  Olivia,  and  she  stepped  forward  and  said : 

"  My  father  is  in  the  hands  of  those  that  hate  him.  I 
pray  thee  to  see  that  he  get  justice." 

Cromwell  looked  at  her  with  piercing  eyes.  Her  inno 
cent  yet  resolute  face,  lifted  so  fearlessly  to  him,  touched 
his  heart.  But  he  was  in  that  mood  of  being  "weary  in 
well-doing,"  into  which  the  best  men  sometimes  fall.  He 


224  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

felt  as  if  he  had  been  kind  and  just  and  faithful  all  in 
vain.  At  that  hour  he  was  tired  of  doing  good  only  to 
be  unthankfully  treated ;  so  he  considered  the  suppliant 
girl  before  he  answered  her.  He  saw  that  she  was  very 
lovely,  and  that  her  dress,  though  plain,  was  of  the  rich 
est  material.  But  he  understood  from  her  speech  that 
she  was  a  Quakeress,  and  like  Joseph  with  his  brethren, 
he  hardened  his  face  and  spoke  roughly  to  her,  though 
the  irrepressible  quiver  of  her  closed  mouth  made  his  own 
mouth  quiver  in  sympathy. 

"Who  is  your  father?" 

"  He  is  called  Roger  Prideaux." 

"  Roger  Prideaux  !  I  have  heard  of  him  from  Baron 
Kelder.  Yes,  I  will  tell  you  the  truth ;  I  have  heard  all 
concerning  him.  He  will  sit  upon  two  stools,  will  he  ? 
Then  if  he  fall  between  them,  he  only  is  to  blame.  Let 
the  magistrates  settle  the  business  as  seemeth  right  to 
them." 

"  But  thou  must  not  bear  the  sword  in  vain.  Thou 
must  see  that  they  who  judge,  judge  righteous  judgment." 

She  looked  confidently  into  his  face ;  but  he  shook 
his  head,  and  turned  from  her  toward  George  Fox. 

Fox  answered  the  movement.  "Thou  must  listen, 
Oliver;  for  if  thou  listen  not,  thy  conscience  will  give 
thee  but  a  hard  time  of  it.  I  know  that  of  thee." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened  and  Odinel  Kel* 
der  entered.  He  came  without  ceremony,  having  re 
ceived  such  favour  of  Cromwell,  and  indeed  being  there 
that  afternoon  on  an  understanding  of  their  mutual 
friendship. 

Cromwell  turned  to  him  instantly.  "  Come  you  here, 
Baron  Kelder.  Know  you  this  man  and  this  young 
maiden?  " 

"  Mr.  Fox  is  known  to  me,  and  I  give  him  my  hand 


OLIVIA   AND  CROMWELL.  22$ 

gladly,  knowing  him  also  to  be  a  good  man.     The  young 
maiden  I  know  not." 

"  I  am  the  daughter  of  Roger  Prideaux ;  and  I  have 
come  here  to  speak  with  the  man  whom  God  has  set 
Over  England,  that  he  may  try  with  his  judgment  whether 
my  father  be  worthy  of  imprisonment  or  not." 

"Truly,  Roger  Prideaux  is  a  worthy  man.  .1  have 
said  so  to  my  Lord  General  before  this.  Mercy  in  his 
case,  cannot  err." 

"  I  ask  not  for  mercy ;  my  father  hath  done  nothing 
worthy  of  punishment.  I  ask,"  — and  she  looked  straight 
into  Cromwell's  eyes,  —  "I  ask  thee  for  justice.  And 
thou  canst  not  judge  justly  if  thou  wilt  not  hear  the 
truth." 

"  You  are  a  brave  maid,  you  are  indeed ;  and  you 
shall  tell  me  the  truth,  and  I  will  see  how  it  fits  with 
what  my  friend  Kelder  has  said  before." 

She  looked  then  into  Kelder's  face,  and  that  moment 
the  baron  forgave  his  son  for  loving  her.  Beginning  at 
that  fatal  day  when  John  de  Burg  begged  his  life  at  her 
hand,  she  told  Cromwell  the  whole  story.  The  words 
came  with  the  force  of  simple  truth.  No  oath  and  no 
witnesses  could  have  certified  them  as  she  herself  did,  — 
her  upright  air,  her  clear  eyes,  her  steady  voice,  her 
modest  confidence. 

When  she  ceased  speaking  Cromwell  turned  to  Baron 
Kelder,  and  Kelder  said  instantly,  "  I  believe  that  Mis 
tress  Prideaux  has  spoken  no  word  that  is  not  true." 
And  he  looked  so  kindly  at  her  that  she  had  to  drop 
her  eyes  to  hide  the  mist  of  grateful  pleasure  that 
gathered  there.  But  Cromwell  answered,  "This  is  a 
judgment  very  difficult,  besides  being  a  business  that 
nearly  concerneth  all  good  men  that  are  loyal.  I  will 
take  it  into  my  own  consideration." 

IS 


226  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  That  is  the  utmost  of  my  desire.  The  Lord  chose 
thee  to  judge  this  nation ;  truly,  then,  7  may  put  my 
confidence  in  thee." 

"  I  think  so,  I  do  indeed  !  I  will  see  that  none  do 
Roger  Prideaux  wrong,  though  I  judge  him  not  alto 
gether  innocent,  for  I  fear  that  his  heart  hath  hankered 
after  the  man  Charles  Stuart.  But  for  you,  little  maid, 
the  Lord  hath  given  you  wisdom  and  comeliness,  and, 
I  doubt  not,  a  knowledge  of  himself.  Come,  I  will  take 
you  to  those  who  will  refresh  you,  for  you  are  weary, 
indeed  you  are ;  and  I  have  daughters  also,  —  four  of 
them,  —  whom  God  knows  I  love  with  a  most  tender 
love." 

All  the  sternness  went  out  of  his  eyes,  his  face 
beamed ;  he  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  with  a  frank 
modesty  Olivia  laid  her  hand  in  it.  As  she  did  so  she 
turned  her  pale,  luminous  face  on  Baron  Kelder,  saying : 

"  Thou  didst  bear  a  true  witness.  I  am  thy  loving 
debtor  for  it." 

"  Nay,  then,  you  must  pay  my  son  Nathaniel  in  loving- 
kindness."  Cromwell  had  her  left  hand,  she  gave  Kel 
der  her  right,  and  he  bowed  his  head  and  touched  the 
white  palm  with  his  lips,  while  Fox  watched  the  little 
tableau  with  a  gaze  that  had  a  blessing  in  it. 

In  a  few  moments  the  Protector  returned  to  his  visi 
tors,  and  his  first  words  had  an  irritable  tone  in  them. 
"  What  is  your  concern  now,  George  ?  You  are  ever  a 
hard  preacher." 

The  two  greatest  men  of  their  day  stood  side  by  side, 
searching  each  other  with  glances  that  went  beyond  all 
visibles.  "  My  concern,  Oliver,  is  no  less  than  the  lives 
of  the  two  thousand  Quakers  in  prison  for  conscience' 
sake ;  and  if  the  question  is  too  hard  for  thee,  so  much 
more  the  pity  of  it !  If  it  be  a  cross  —  " 


OLIVIA   AMD   CROMWELL.  22? 

"  Talk  you  of  the  cross,  as  if  a  Quaker  had  a  special 
bearing  of  it?  I  trow  not.  I  also  have  crosses  on  the 
one  side  and  the  other,  I  am  sure.  And,  also,  better 
men  than  myself  bearing  burdens  for  England,  with  small 
thanks.  Listen  to  this,  and  let  Quakers  learn  therefrom 
the  patience  I  wish  they  had,  —  I  am  sure  I  do." 

Then  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  letter,  and  opened  it 
with  some  passion.  "  Here  is  a  man  that  knew  his  call 
ing  from  the  first  to  this  day.  What  man  has  discharged 
his  duty  better  than  Robert  Blake?  Has  he  not  driven 
away  the  Dutch,  and  made  Popish  kings  do  right  to 
Protestants,  and  the  Pope  himself  pay  twenty  thousand 
pistoles  good  penance  money,  and  taught  justice  to  the 
deys  of  Tunis  and  Tripoli  ?  —  a  hard  lesson  truly ;  and 
yet  in  the  midst  of  all  these  triumphs  he  writes  thus  to 
me  :  he  writes  with  tears,  he  does  indeed,  out  of  a  mind 
troubled  and  a  body  sick  as  ever  was,  yet  withal  as  a 
man  fearing  God  very  bravely.  I  tell  you  the  Quakers 
are  the  Little- Faiths  of  their  generation.  Tell  them  that, 
George,  and  also  tell  them  what  Robert  Blake  says  in  his 
weakness  and  triumph ;  "  and  he  stood  still  and  struck 
the  paper  with  his  right  hand,  before  he  read  the  words 
aloud :  — 

"  '  My  only  comfort  is  that  we  have  God  to  lean  upon, 
although  we  walk  in  darkness  and  see  no  light,  —  consoling 
myself  in  the  mean  time  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  firm  pur 
pose  of  my  heart  with  all  faithfulness  and  sincerity  to  dis 
charge  the  trust  reposed  in  me.' 

"  I  tell  thee,  George  Fox,  I  myself  have  a  service 
fullest  of  trials  ever  poor  creature  was  set  upon.  The 
cross  !  The  cross  !  Surely,  if  we  turn  ourselves  upward 
or  downward,  without  or  within  us,  everywhere  the  cross 
is  always  waiting." 


228  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"Thy  words  do  not  meet  the  witness  of  my  con 
science." 

"  George  Fox,  Quaker  consciences  are  too  trouble 
some.  I  protest  they  are.  Under  this  pretence  they 
will  not  fight,  nor  will  they  pay  tithes,  nor  will  they 
swear.  So  many  scruples  !  Such  bad  principles  !  Such 
provokingly  good  practice  !  I  know  not  —  no,  nor  doth 
any  other  know  —  what  is  best  to  give  them.  I  would 
they  could  at  least  suffer  in  silence.  I  say,  suffer  in 
silence." 

"  Testimonies  are  required  of  them.  Thou  knowest 
well  that  there  is  not  one  instance  in  which  even  the 
weakest  woman  has  denied  or  concealed  her  faith  for 
fear  of  man's  scorn,  or  the  torture  of  the  flesh.  Bear  in 
thy  mind,  also,  that  many  of  these  sufferers  are  thy  old 
comrades,  —  fierce,  strong,  brave  men,  such  as  thou  didst 
make  them  ;  yet  when  did  any  of  them  revenge  himself  ? 
Verily,  not  one." 

"  If  they  would  speak  what  any  man  might  know  !  But 
this  doctrine  is  full  of  hidden  things, — of  mysticism." 

"  Out  of  the  steel  ranks  of  thy  own  Ironsides  have 
come  the  mystics  of  England.  These  men  who  have 
laid  down  their  swords  for  Christ's  sake  once  followed 
thee  through  many  a  red  lane  of  battle.  And  though 
God  permitteth  thee  to  be  merciful,  doubtless  persecu 
tion  is  of  his  will.  For  't  is  a  deep  plough,  Oliver ;  it  goes 
to  the  bottom  of  a  man's  nature.  It  goes  far  below  all 
dogma.  It  goes  below  even  the  senses  and  the  appe 
tites.  It  summons  the  soul  to  do  battle  against  the  arm 
of  flesh.  Verily,  I  have  seen  the  black  heart  of  the  sen 
sualist  burned  clean  and  white  in  this  fire." 

"  Then,  George,  if  it  be  such  a  fire  of  God's  kindling, 
I  will  not  put  it  out ;  I  will  not,  indeed." 

They  had  been  walking  as  they  talked  together,  and 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  229 

had  passed  out  of  the  smaller  room  into  the  great  hall. 
Some  one  was  at  one  of  the  organs,  and  through  all  their 
conversation  a  soft  fugue  had  kept  up  a  mysterious  and 
melodious  dialogue.  Suddenly  there  was  an  intrusion  of 
metallic  sounds,  the  clash  of  cymbals  and  tinkle  of  tri 
angles,  and  accompanying  these  the  roll  of  a  drum. 
Cromwell  became  silent  and  stood  still,  listening.  In 
some  occult  way  the  half-barbaric  sounds  carried  each 
mind  far  off  to  lands  near  sunrising,  and  while  the  spell 
lasted  a  clear  voice  in  musical  recitative  filled  the  hall : 

"  Belshazzar  the  king  gave  a  great  feast  to  a  thousand 
of  his  lords." 

With  a  white,  stern  face  Cromwell  heard,  and  then  led 
the  way  back  to  the  smaller  room.  He  was  strangely 
troubled.  For  a  few  minutes  he  did  not  speak,  and 
neither  Fox  nor  Kelder  felt  any  impulse  to  break  the 
strained  silence.  The  strong  voice  rising  and  falling  to 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tingling,  rolling  waves  of  sound 
was  still  faintly  audible.  Kelder  stood  as  if  listening  to 
its  echoes.  Fox  was  listening  also,  but  not  to  any  echo 
of  mortal  sound.  Cromwell  broke  the  pause  in  a  voice 
that  had  a  singular  unreality  about  it. 

"  'T  is  beyond  our  knowing,"  he  said,  "where  dreams 
come  from  ;  yet  't  is  beyond  my  doubting  that  I  dreamed 
last  night  of  the  king  Belshazzar  and  the  hand  that  wrote 
his  death-warrant.  Verily,  it  is  the  unseen  that  terrifies 
us,  Kelder.  It  was  not  the  hand,  but  the  hand  being 
without  the  body,  that  froze  the  king  and  nobles  with 
unearthly  terror.  Come,  let  us  go  and  eat,  for  I  am 
weary  with  many  thoughts  and  cares." 

They  passed  without  further  words  into  a  more  private 
part  of  the  palace,  and  entering  a  room  saw  Olivia  sitting 
between  Bridget  Ireton  and  Mary  Fauconberg,  the  Pro 
tector's  daughters.  The  Lady  Elizabeth  Cromwell  stood 


23O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

at  the  spread  table,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Olivia, 
whose  face  had  an  expression  of  holy  enthusiasm  upon 
it.  There  was  evidently  an  interruption  ;  but  no  allusion 
was  made  to  the  circumstance  until  the  whole  party  sat 
in  the  summer  twilight. 

Then  the  Lady  Cromwell  said  to  her  husband,  "  My 
dear,  your  coming  in  prevented  our  full  knowledge  of 
the  finest  words  ever  I  did  hear ;  and  I  think  Mistress 
Prideaux  will  do  us  all  great  service  if  she  make  us 
audience  to  them." 

Every  one  looked  at  Olivia,  and  with  a  slightly  height 
ened  colour  she  said,  "  They  were  the  last  words  of  James 
Naylor,  who  truly  died  for  the  truth,  though  men  per 
ceived  it  not  for  the  veil  of  mortal  frailty.  Yet  in  the 
end,  God  suffered  him  the  glory  and  peace  of  his 
presence." 

"  Naylor  !  The  man  was  adjudged  by  the  best  in  the 
land  to  be  a  blasphemer  against  God,"  answered  Crom 
well  ;  but  his  speech  was  slow  and  heavy. 

"  The  best  in  the  land  ! "  cried  Fox.  "  Were  they 
indeed  the  appointed  keepers  of  God's  honour?  Thou 
knowest  better,  Oliver.  T  was  a  matter  of  conscience, 
and  belonged  to  God's  tribunal." 

"  His  claim  was  beyond  humanity,  George." 

"  His  punishment  was  beyond  humanity.  Foolish 
women,  led  away  by  the  marvellous  beauty  of  his  comely 
countenance  and  by  the  music  of  his  eloquent  tongue, 
gave  him  honour  he  never  claimed.  Doubtless  he  ran 
out  foolishly  into  imaginations,  but.  he  said  not  that 
he  was  Christ ;  only,  that  Christ  dwelt  within  him. 
Such  a  word  was  too  great  to  be  carnally  judged." 
And  Fox  looked  upward,  as  if  appealing  to  the  God 
of  justice. 

"God  may  pardon  such  judges,  but  I  would  surely 


OLIVIA    AND   CROMWELL.  231 

mete  them  their  own  measure,"  said  Baron  Kelder, — 
"  the  red-hot  iron  through  the  tongue  and  on  the  brow, 
and  the  six  hundred  and  twenty  lashes  which  tore  the 
body  till  the  flesh  would  scarce  hold  the  vital  organs. 
'T  was  an  infamy  of  cruelty  fathered  upon  the  God  of 
mercy  and  the  Lamb  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world.  And  there  was  none  to  pity  him." 

"  Odinel  Kelder,  I  was  in  close  prison  myself  at  the 
time.  Had  I  been  a  free  man,  I  would  have  besought 
our  kind  Oliver  for  the  mercy  that  is  truly  in  his  heart. 
I  would  have  pleaded  for  James  Naylor  with  both  God 
and  man." 

"  He  went  too  far,  George,  he  did  indeed ;  and  he 
deserved  some  punishment,  he  did,  —  I  say  so.  Yet 
truly  I  interfered,  even  to  the  checking  of  Parliament 
with  stiff  words,  about  James  Naylor." 

"  Well,  then,  he  is  now  with  God." 

"  I  knew  not  that  he  was  dead." 

"  Yea,  gone  away  from  all  who  loved  and  all  who 
hated  him  and  did  him  wrong.  His  end  was  in  great 
peace,  and  in  the  passing  over  he  breathed  forth  his 
soul  in  music,  —  slowly,  with  his  mutilated  tongue,  speak 
ing  the  great  words  in  his  adoring  soul.  Olivia,  let  us 
hear  the  last  thoughts  of  this  blasphemer,  whom  the 
Parliament  of  England  thought  it  did  well  to  torture." 

Then  Olivia  stood  up,  and  resting  one  hand  on  Fox's 
shoulder,  she  repeated  the  hymn  to  which  James  Naylor 
dismissed  his  soul. 

"  There  is  a  spirit  which  I  feel  that  delights  to  do  no  evil,  nor  to 
revenge  any  wrong,  but  delights  to  endure  all  things  in  hope  to  enjoy  its 
own  in  the  end. 

"It  sees  to  the  end  of  all  temptations. 

"  As  it  bears  no  evil  in  itself,  so  it  conceives  none  in  thoughts  to  any 
other. 

"  If  it  be  betrayed,  it  bears  it ;  for  its  ground  and  spring  is  the  mercy 
and  forgiveness  of  God. 


232  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Its  crown  is  meekness. 
"  Its  life  is  everlasting  love  unfeigned. 

"  It  takes  its  kingdom  with  entreaty,  and  not  with  contention,  and 
keeps  it  by  lowliness  of  mind. 

"  In  God  alone  it  can  rejoice,  though  none  else  regard  it  or  can  own  its 
life. 

'  It  is  conceived  in  sorrow,  and  brought  forth  without  any  to  pity  it. 
'  Nor  doth  it  murmur  at  grief  and  opposition. 

'  It  never  rejoiceth  but  through  suffering,  for  with  the  world's  joy  it  is 
murthered. 

'I  found  it  alone,  being  forsaken. 

'  I  have  fellowship  therein  with  them  who  lived  in  dens  and  desolate 
places  of  the  earth. 

"  Who  through  Death  obtained  the  Resurrection  and  Eternal  Holy 
Life." 

To  these  majestic  words  Olivia's  sympathetic  voice 
rose  and  fell  in  musical  cadence.  Her  eyes  sought 
heaven,  and  her  face  was  like  the  glowing  page  of  some 
holy  book.  Kelder  kept  back  tears  with  difficulty ; 
Oliver's  sorrow-laden  eyes  were  cast  down  with  the 
trouble  in  them  ;  Fox's  face  and  attitude  were  that  of  tri 
umphant  rejoicing.  But  no  one  made  any  comments.  In 
deed,  the  first  word  spoken  was  irrelevant  to  the  matter. 

"  What  name  did  George  Fox  call  you  by,  little 
maid?" 

"  I  am  named  Olivia." 

"  For  this  life  we  have  the  same  name,  —  Olivia." 
He  said  the  word  slowly,  with  a  lingering,  gentle  em 
phasis.  "  My  daughter,  know  you  the  secret,  sacred 
name,  —  the  new  name  of  His  adoption  ?  "  They  looked 
at  each  other  steadily,  as  if  seeing  with  that  sight  which 
cleaveth  flesh  and  blood  and  discerns  spiritually. 

Then  Cromwell  dropped  her  hand,  and  walked  on  to 
the  terrace  with  Odinel  Kelder;  and  the  women  bade 
Olivia  and  Fox  farewell,  with  all  the  pleasant  confusion 
and  iterated  words  that  are  the  womanly  conception 
of  the  rite. 


OLIVIA   AND   CROMWELL.  233 

Olivia  was  exceedingly  weary,  but  so  upheld  by  the 
certainty  of  Cromwell's  interference  in  her  father's  case 
that  she  did  not  desire  to  rest  until  she  had  written  to 
Hannah  Mettelane,  in  whose  letter  she  put  these  few 
lines  to  Nathaniel :  — 

MY  DEAREST  HEART,  —  This  is  to  tell  thee  that  all 
has  gone  well,  and  that  we  leave  London  for  Sandys  in  two 
days.  Mistress  Caroline  Peel  and  her  daughter  Sybil  re 
turn  in  our  company  to  the  north.  Nathaniel,  know  truly 
that  all  the  space  between  us  is  full  of  loving  thoughts  for 
thee.  I  say  thy  name  often,  and  whenever  it  passes  my  lips 
I  kiss  it  on  them  for  thee.  To-day  I  saw  thy  father  with 
Cromwell,  and  the  meeting  was  pleasant ;  but  I  surely  think 
that  I  shall  see  thee  ere  thou  see  him.  For  Cromwell  stays 
him  in  London  for  love,  but  love  so  much  stronger  hastens 
me  back  to  Sandys  and  to  thee.  So  then,  am  I  not,  as  I 
have  truly  promised  to  be,  ever  thine 

OLIVIA. 


XII. 

ANASTASIA'S   MARRIAGE. 

"  Good  smiters  when  help  is  needed,  though  the  feeble  bend  to  the  blow ; 
Men  who  when  Evil  bares  before  them  his  hindmost  teeth,  fly  gaily  to 
meet  him,  in  companies  or  alone." 

"  No  wailer  before  ill-luck,  one  mindful  in  all  he  did 
To  think  how  his  work  to-day  would  live  in  to-morrow's  talt." 

"  Marriage  a  slavery  beyond  enduring, 
But  that  't  was  of  her  own  procuring." 

"  Women  are  governed  by  a  stubborn  fate: 
No  merit  their  aversion  can  remove, 
No  ill  requital  can  efface  their  love." 

A  FTER  the  receipt  of  Olivia's  letter,  Nathaniel  was 
-*~^  at  Sandys  every  day.  Lady  Kelder  showed  her 
disapproval  in  many  familiar  ways;  but,  as  she  com 
plained  to  Jael,  "  he  bows  to  me,  and  then  takes  the 
road.  If  it  had  been  Mary  Bellingham,  or  Alice  Single 
ton,  or  Ruby  Halliday,  I  could  have  made  shift  to 
endure  it." 

"  Nay,  my  Lady.  You  would  have  thought  Mistress 
Bellingham  gave  my  young  master  but  half  a  heart, 
the  other  half  being  with  Charles  Stuart ;  and  Mis 
tress  Singleton  is  full  cousin,  and  not  to  be  thought 
of;  and  Mistress  Halliday  hath  the  dream  of  the  Fifth 
Monarchy  Men,  and  would  be  like  enough  to  keep  us 
all  in  hot  water  with  the  Commonwealth." 

"  Then  a  God's  mercy  !  why  should  he  marry  any 
one?  And  here  also  is  the  baron  dallying  his  time 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE. 

away  at  Oliver's  court,  —  a  fine  court  truly  !  —  and  I 
a  poor  lonely  lady  as  ever  bore  the  name." 

"The  Lord  General  delays  the  Baron  from  kind 
memories.  Few  that  push  themselves  into  high  places 
are  so  humble-minded,  my  Lady." 

"  High  places  !  Yes,  he  hath  a  high  place ;  and 
I  wish  him  as  much  joy  in  it  as  he  has  right  to  it. 
Those  Cromwells  patron  to  Kelder !  It  passes  my 
understanding." 

"  To  be  sure  't  is  so ;  but  in  worst  extremes  we  may 
remember  ourselves,  that  blow  wind  ever  so  fast,  it  will 
have  to  lower  itself  ere  long.  To-morrow  is  untouched 
my  Lady." 

"  It  is  not  untouched,  Jael.  To-day  prophesies  for 
to-morrow.  To-day  we  love  and  we  plan,  and  to 
morrow  we  have  the  outcome.  Yes,  indeed ;  and  the 
thing  intended  brings  with  it  many  a  thing  not  intended. 
I  have  had  sorrows,  Jael,  in  the  past ;  and  I  know  how 
past  sorrows  breed  present  ones." 

"  My  Lady,  I  would  n't  carry  next  year,  and  the  year 
after,  on  your  heart.  Wherever  to-day's  comforts  come 
from,  to-morrow's  will  come  also.  There  is  always  the 
'  wherewith  '  for  the  want.  And  many  a  God's- penny 
you  have  for  the  days  to  come ;  so  I  would  n't  take  on 
over  miscomforts  clear  and  sheer  gone  forever.  All  of 
us  stand  in  hand  to  look  forward,  and  not  backward. 
'T  was  yesterday  only,  when  young  master  sat  making 
the  flies  for  his  trout- fishing,  I  heard  him  singing  some 
words  that  set  me  thinking  so." 

"  Your  young  master  hath  the  song  ever  on  his  tongue 
now  ;  that  is  because  he  is  thinking  of —  somebody." 

"  I  should  n't  wonder,  my  Lady.  I  never  knew  any 
one  sing  that  thought  about  themselves.  Dismal  work 
that,  and  nothing  to  sing  about.  My  young  master  hath 


236  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

a  fine  voice,  and  I  warrant  he  made  a  sweet  music  to 
the  words  as  ever  I  heard." 

"Love  words,  doubtless,  Jael?" 

"  Not  they,  —  but  wise  words,  as  you  shall  hear,  my 
Lady,  — 

"  '  Weep  no  more,  nor  sigh,  nor  groan, 
Sorrow  calls  no  time  that 's  gone: 
Violets  plucked,  the  sweetest  rain 
Makes  not  fresh  nor  grow  again.'  " 

"  And  anon  he  tuned  up  gayly,  and  sang  of,  — 

" '  Spring,  the  sweet  spring, 
The  year's  pleasant  king, 
And  the  lark's  silver 
Leer-a-leer !    Leer-a-leer ! ' 

"  'T  was  a  good  sight  to  me,  and  I  stood  idling  a  ten  min 
utes  watching  and  listening  to  him." 

"  Ah,  Jael,  my  son  hath  a  sweet  temper  and  a  noble 
heart." 

"And  a  noble  presence,  my  Lady.  As  he  sat  there, 
singing  in  the  sunshine,  he  looked  wondrous  like  you." 

"  He  hath  truly  a  look  of  me,  and  it  does  not  hurt  him. 
He  is  away  to  Sandys  again,  Jael." 

"  I  fear,  then,  he  will  get  a  wetting  ere  he  get  back. 
Listen  to  the  quails  in  the  juicy  corn,  crying,  '  Wet  my 
feet ! '  If  they  'd  satin  slippers  on,  they  could  n't  make 
more  fuss  about  a  drop  of  rain.  Come,  my  Lady,  be 
well  at  ease.  The  baron  will  be  here  anon ;  and  for  the 
other  matter,  as  you  cannot  manage  it,  you  may  just  as 
well  leave  it." 

She  had  been  dressing  her  lady's  hair  as  she  talked, 
and  with  these  final  words  she  handed  her  a  little  silver- 
framed  mirror  to  inspect  her  arrangement. 

"  I  think  it  will  do,  Jael.  Bring  me  my  second-best 
house-gown ;  surely  the  baron  will  arrive  to-night."  And 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  237 

in  this  hope  she  dressed  herself,  letting  her  jealous,  angry 
thoughts  of  Nathaniel  drift  away  on  its  happier  tide. 

It  was  on  this  afternoon  —  the  fifth  after  the  receipt 
of  Olivia's  letter  —  that  Nathaniel  saw  her  waiting  for 
him.  The  sky  had  become  cloudy,  and  the  quail's  fretful 
fear  was  on  the  point  of  being  realized ;  but  Nathaniel 
thought  the  slight,  white-robed  figure,  standing  with  un 
covered  head  in  the  gray  light,  fairer  for  the  sombre 
atmosphere  surrounding  it. 

They  met  without  words,  for  their  eyes  had  a  quicker 
speech.  But  oh,  how  full  were  the  hours  that  followed  ! 
What  confidences  !  What  silences  !  Nathaniel  learned 
over  again  every  changing  light  and  shadow  on  her  sweet 
face.  And  his  love- fraught  gaze  upon  her  was  like  sun 
shine  on  flowers.  It  brought  the  rose  into  her  cheeks, 
the  light  into  her  eyes.  It  suffused  her  smiles,  her  low 
words,  her  shy  looks  with  such  responsive  love  that  the 
afternoon  went  like  a  moment,  and  it  was  sunset,  dark 
and  rainy,  before  they  had  well  begun  their  story. 

On  that  same  afternoon  the  baron  said  his  farewell  to 
Cromwell.  He  was  then  at  Whitehall,  and  thither  Kelder 
went,  with  a  melancholy  sense  that  it  was  the  last  earthly 
interview  with  his  old  comrade.  In  London  the  day  was 
fine  and  clear,  but  Cromwell  was  in  one  of  the  darkest 
of  those  dark  moods  which  clouded  the  latter  part  of  his 
life.  The  baron  found  him  wandering  through  the  empty 
rooms  of  Whitehall,  musing  upon  the  discord  and  dis 
union  in  the  ranks  of  his  party,  and  he  said  bitterly  to 
Kelder,  "All  is  but  vanity,  —  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit." 

"  His  loving- kindness  faileth  not." 

"  I  am  in  the  shadows,  Odinel,  —  soul-shadows,  if  I  may 
say  so ;  they  fall  where  they  please,  without  regard  to  the 


238  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

sun.  Many  things  press  sore  on  me.  I  live  as  it  were 
in  the  fire."  And  he  began  to  complain  sadly  of  the  re 
ligious  chaos  of  the  time,  —  the  Solemn  League  and  Cove 
nant  Men,  the  Fifth  Monarchy  Men,  the  Presbyterians, 
the  prelates,  and  the  Independents,  all  asking  but  one 
question,  Who  shall  get  the  living?  "Truly,  Odinel,  the 
burden  is  heavy  on  me." 

"  Perhaps,  then,  Quakers  are  not  so  foolish  as  we  deem 
them.  Sure  't  is  the  part  of  peace  and  wisdom  to  retreat 
from  all  these  confusions  to  the  Light  Within.  Perhaps, 
also,  these  men  may  weary  of  their  contentions,  and  at  even 
tide  you  may  have  the  peace  you  have  truly  wrought  for." 

" '  T  is  not  to  be  hoped  for ;  '  t  is  not  indeed.  Many 
dogs  have  never  killed  their  own  mutton,  but  those  who 
have  begun  to  do  so  will  not  cease  the  bad  charge  of 
themselves.  So  '  t  is  with  men ;  many  have  meddled  not 
with  plots  and  politics,  but  those  who  have  but  once  done 
so,  '  t  will  be  extraordinary  indeed  if  they  cease  their 
troubling." 

Thus  conversing  they  left  the  palace  and  walked  into 
that  royal  avenue  of  elms  which  then  adorned  St.  James's 
Park ;  and  after  a  while  they  came  to  "  that  pretty  gar 
den  house  "  which  was  then  the  abode  of  Milton,  and  in 
later  days  of  Hazlitt  and  Jeremy  Bentham.  There  were 
five  persons  present,  and  among  them  Sir  Roger  L'Es- 
trange,  a  bitter  royalist  but  a  great  lover  of  music.  He 
was  playing  the  viol  with  Mr.  Milton,  and  all  were  singing 
Shirley's  grand  lyric, — 

"  The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow, 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds  ; 
Upon  death's  purple  altar  now, 
See  where  the  victor-victim  bleeds  : 
All  heads  must  come 
To  the  cold  tomb  ; 
Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  the  dust." 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  239 

Cromwell  sat  down,  and  at  the  last  two  lines  his  face 
kindled,  and  he  sang  them  with  a  solemn  enthusiasm. 
Then  Mr.  Milton  went  to  the  organ  and  there  was  sung 
a  madrigal,  and  a  canon  of  Lock's,  and  at  the  last  the 
"  Orpheus  Hymn."  And  strange  it  was  to  see  how  even 
Sir  Roger  forgot  his  enmity  in  the  fine  harmonious  sounds, 
and  how  men  were  at  one  in  a  musical  part  who  were  at 
sixes  and  sevens  when  it  came  to  theology  and  politics. 

The  Protector  and  Kelder  left  before  the  impromptu 
concert  was  ended,  and  at  the  little  gate  on  the  West 
minster  side  they  bade  each  other  farewell.  Cromwell  had 
become  gloomy  and  silent  as  soon  as  they  lost  the  last 
echo  of  the  music.  He  said  his  farewell  like  one  who 
was  tired,  and  who  felt  the  sudden  return  of  some  swift- 
gathering  sorrow  which  he  might  forget  for  a  moment, 
but  never  escape.  Yet  in  spite  of  his  gloom  the  man's 
parting  smile  was  an  actual  phenomenon.  It  came  from 
some  sunny  depth  in  his  nature,  and  remained  forever 
in  the  heart  of  the  man  who  caught  it;  a  wonderful 
smile,  though  he  said  with  it,  — 

"  If  it  be  a  last  farewell,  Kelder,  I  say  it  truly  without 
grieving.  Whenever  He  shall  be  pleased  to  call  me  I  am 
prepared  to  dislodge.  I  am  everywhere  free." 

And  as  the  clashing  gate  parted  them  Kelder  whis 
pered,  "  I  have  seen  the  last  of  him.  Oh,  my  old  cap 
tain  !  Shall  we  meet  again  among  the  hosts"  of  heaven  ? 
Truly,  Michael  the  chief  will  welcome  you  for  a  brave 
comrade." 

He  hardly  understood  the  passion  of  grief  and  admira 
tion  which  melted  his  heart  within  him  ;  but  he  felt  how 
dear  those  are  who  have  been  our  associates  in  any  good 
or  great  work,  and  how  specially  dear  if  that  memory  is 
set  in  those  noon-days  of  life  when  we  were  happy  of  heart 
and  strong  and  willing  in  the  day  of  our  power. 


240  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

He  went  thoughtfully  through  the  city,  noticing  very 
little,  and  so  by  easy  stages  to  Kelderby.  Between  Lan 
cashire  and  Westmoreland  there  is  a  bleak  country,  so 
wild  and  desolate  that  even  at  this  day  the  manufact 
uring  villages  perched  on  the  hilltops  affront  its  natural 
loneliness.  Few  people  in  Cromwell's  time  crossed  it, 
but  Kelder's  nearest  way  home  lay  through  the  western 
portion.  As  his  horse  painfully  picked  his  steps  among 
bogs  and  bowlders,  he  saw  four  men  toiling  along  before 
him.  They  were  grave  in  gait,  and,  but  for  the  want  of 
swords,  looked  like  disbanded  Ironsides.  They  walked, 
too,  like  men  having  some  earnest  purpose  ;  and  when 
Kelder  overtook  them  he  asked  if  they  had  business 
that  way. 

"  We  have  a  great  business  on  God's  earth,  yet  not  in 
men's  market-places  ; "  and  then  walking  by  Kelder's  side 
they  reasoned  with  him  of  righteousness  and  of  judg 
ment  to  come,  and  specially  of  that  attractive  doctrine 
of  the  Inward  Light,  alluring  men  by  the  infallibility  of 
its  guidance  and  the  independence  of  its  individuality. 

One  of  the  men  was  John  Audland,  a  young  Independ 
ent  minister  of  great  learning,  who  had  joined  Fox  at  his 
first  appearing,  and  Kelder  had  some  knowledge  both  of 
him  and  of  his  wife,  the  beautiful,  wealthy,  and  pious 
Anne  Newby.  He  gladly  talked  with  him  until  they  came 
to  a  lonely  farmhouse  at  which  the  evangelists  were  to 
stay,  and  he  never  forgot  John's  parting  words, — 

"  Odinel  Kelder,  if  a  prophet  told  thee  to  do  some 
great  thing,  thou  wouldst  gladly  obey  him.  Thou  wouldst 
draw  up  truth  from  the  deep,  or  bring  it  down  from  the 
heavens;  but  thou  canst  not  believe  it  is  within  thee. 
Stretching  out  thy  hands  to  an  unknown  God,  thou 
heedest  not  the  God  in  whom  thou  livest,  and  movest, 
and  hast  thy  being." 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  24! 

It  was  sunset  when  they  parted,  and  Kelder  rode  on, 
full  of  thought,  until  the  gray  hills  and  the  gray  clouds 
met,  and  the  horizon  was  like  a  still  sea.  A  lonely  hos 
telry  received  him,  and  he  was  weary  enough  to  have 
slept  soundly ;  but  neither  weariness  nor  the  thought  of 
home,  now  only  a  day's  journey  distant,  could  put  aside 
the  seriously  transcendent  words  of  John  Audland.  True, 
he  had  not  Fox's  imperial  logic,  but  he  had  Paul's  faith 
in  his  heart,  and  Paul's  words  on  his  tongue  ;  and  Kelder, 
do  as  he  would,  could  not  rid  himself  of  the  great  apos 
tle's  manifesto,  "  I  live ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in 
me." 

And  then  the  wailing  of  a  babe  in  the  next  room 
recalled  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation,  and  it  was  gray 
dawn  when  he  went  to  sleep,  with  that  same  wonder  in 
his  heart  that  Richard  Crashaw  had  just  so  eloquently 
expressed  for  him  :  — 

"  That  He  whom  the  sun  serves  should  faintly  peep 
Through  clouds  of  infant  flesh  ;  that  He  the  old 
Eternal  Word  would  be  a  child,  and  weep ; 
That  He  who  made  the  fire  should  feel  the  cold ; 
That  Heaven's  high  Majesty  his  court  should  keep 
In  a  clay  cottage,  by  each  blast  controlled  ; 

That  Glory's  self  should  serve  our  griefs  and  fears, 

And  free  Eternity  submit  to  years." 

In  the  evening  of  the  following  day  the  baron  reached 
Kelderby.  There  all  things  were  as  usual,  but  he  heard 
that  a  small  Lody  of  cavalry  had  taken  up  their  quarters 
in  Kendal.  They  had  offered  no  information  concerning 
their  visit,  and  Kelder,  though  suspecting  it,  was  equally 
reticent.  The  generality  knew  that  Kendal  and  its  vicin- 
ty  was  the  home  of  many  active  royalists.  Lord  Derwent 
had  recently  fled  to  the  king  in  France,  and  so  men  with 
bad  consciences  concerning  their  affection  to  the  Com 
monwealth  walked  very  softly,  and  kept  their  tongues 

16 


242  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

even  from  good,  while  those  stern-looking  Artegals  walked 
silent  and  watchful  up  and  down  the  quiet  streets  of  their 
town. 

De  Burg  heeded  them  very  little.  He  knew  more  of 
forbidden  knowledge  than  most  of  the  citizens,  and  he 
was  confident  they  were  watching  Strickland.  For  this 
young  man  had  a  certain  bravery  of  his  opinions,  and  a 
contempt  for  any  equivocal  hiding  of  them,  which  De 
Burg  had  often  foretold  would  bring  him  into  trouble. 
He  expected  every  morning  to  hear  of  his  arrest,  and  he 
was  happy  in  the  expectation ;  for  he  had  not  forgotten 
Strickland's  contemptuous  treatment,  neither  was  he  so 
much  the  friend  of  the  king  as  to  put  the  safety  of  his 
friends  before  the  punishment  of  De  Burg's  enemies. 

He  had  no  knowledge  of  the  baron's  visit  to  London. 
Events  happening  in  Sjlverdale  took  a  long  time  to  reach 
Kendal,  especially  in  the  haying  season,  and  he  saw 
Nathaniel  frequently  about  the  town,  or  on  the  highways. 
Even  if  a  visit  to  Cromwell  had  suggested  itself  to  his 
mind,  he  would  have  been  certain  that  only  Nathaniel 
could  take  it ;  but  such  an  event  never  occurred  to  him 
as  probable.  He  could  break  faith  as  suited  his  desire 
or  his  convenience,  but  he  did  not  reflect  that  his  own 
breach  of  honour  cancelled  the  obligations  of  others. 

Also,  he  had  plenty  of  private  business  to  attend  to. 
Anastasia  required  more  conciliation  than  he  had  ever 
before  considered  it  necessary  to  give  to  any  woman ; 
and  Chenage,  having  in  a  manner  arranged  his  own 
happiness,  was  not  concerned  to  redeem  his  promises  to 
De  Burg  as  promptly' as  De  Burg  expected  and  desired. 
He  had  been  compelled  to  let  the  vessel  belonging  to 
Le  Tail's  friend  sail  without  him,  and  in  consequence 
had  had  to  make  two  secret  journeys  to  Whitehaven,  in 
order  to  arrange  with  another  captain. 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  243 

But  at  length  the  ^200  was  paid,  the  ship  waiting, 
and  Anastasia  gave  that  reluctant  consent  which  ne 
cessity  wrings  from  the  unwilling  heart.  Chenage  and 
De  Burg  wished  the  ceremony  to  be  as  private  as  pos 
sible,  but  Anastasia's  nature  demanded  the  support 
which  a  crowd  of  fellow-creatures  was  sure  to  give  her. 
She  felt  that  if  she  must  transact  this  business  of  marriage 
it  could  be  done  with  the  least  suffering  to  herself  if  the 
whole  town  was  present  to  give  her  its  admiration  and 
approval. 

And  when  she  appeared  on  her  bridal  morning  King 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory  might  well  have  been  astonished 
at  this  young  woman.  Her  dress  of  silver  brocade  had 
a  stomacher  of  pearls ;  three  rows  of  pearls  encircled 
her  throat ;  bracelets  of  pearls  were  around  her  arms  ; 
a  golden  comb  set  with  pearls  held  back  the  veil  of  her 
flowing  hair.  Her  neck  and  bosom  were  partly  covered 
with  a  scarf  of  French  lace,  and  a  little  apron  of  the 
same  material  was  full  of  white  roses.  The  moonlight 
radiance,  the  soft  shimmer  of  her  whole  toilet,  but  in 
tensified  the  brilliance  of  her  beauty,  —  of  eyes  that 
flashed  or  languished  as  it  pleased  her;  of  cheeks  that 
glowed  like  carnations ;  of  an  air  at  once  resolved, 
daring,  cajoling,  and  fascinating. 

The  sun  shone  with  a  brilliance  that  went  to  the 
heart ;  the  bells  were  ringing  as  if  each  separate  bell 
had  a  conscious,  jubilant  voice  ;  the  town  had  the  air  of 
a  holiday,  and  as  she  went  through  it  hearty  hurrahs 
answered  the  bells,  and  women  and  children  threw  flow 
ers  into  her  coach,  with  loud-spoken  admiration  and 
good  wishes. 

All  this  tumult  of  bride-blessing  was  seriously  disliked 
by  Chenage.  What  had  these  crowds  of  men  and 
women  to  do  with  his  Anastasia?  He  was  jealously 


244  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

angry  that  they  should  appropriate  any  portion  of  his 
joy,  or  assume  the  right  to  look  at  his  bride  and  express 
their  interest  in  her  beauty  and  happiness.  A  sullen 
gloom  was  in  his  eyes,  even  as  he  walked  to  the  altar; 
but  when  Anastasia  scattered  her  roses  before  it,  and 
then  turned  to  him  with  a  smile,  he  forgot  everything 
but  the  loveliness  of  the  girl  whose  hand  he  took. 

De  Burg  watched  him  with  hearty  suspicion  and  dis 
like.  He  had  learned  both  to  doubt  and  to  detest  him ; 
and  there  had  been  hours  lately  in  which  Anastasia,  had 
she  known  it,  could  have  changed  her  fate  by  a  tear  or  a 
caress.  So  near  in  life  do  two  destinies  often  meet. 
The  quiver  of  an  eyelid  might  enable  a  soul  to  pass 
from  misery  to  happiness ;  but  ignorance  of  the  fact 
makes  the  barrier  insurmountable,  beyond  effort,  and 
beyond  hope.  Anastasia  would  gladly  have  broken  the 
chain  of  circumstances  in  which  she  was  bound,  but  her 
evil  genius  stood  watching  her  with  sarcastic  approval, 
always  choosing  the  wrong  moment,  always  taking  the 
wrong  method,  in  any  effort  she  made  for  this  end. 
And  at  last  it  was  too  late.  She  was  the  wife  of  Roger 
Chenage,  and  he  soon  let  her  understand  her  new  posi 
tion.  In  the  church,  with  the  wedding  guests  standing 
around,  his  first  words  to  her  had  the  tone  of  a 
command. 

"  Come,  Asia  !  " 

Only  two  words,  but  they  were  uttered  with  the 
peremptory  air  of  a  master,  and  De  Burg  looked  at  his 
daughter  with  a  quick  and  angry  inquiry.  Did  she  wish 
him,  even  then  and  there,  to  answer  for  her?  Anastasia 
met  the  unspoken  sympathy  with  eyes  full  of  meaning ; 
there  was  defiance  and  strength  and  satisfaction  in  them, 
and  for  many  a  doubtful  day  De  Burg  rested  himself  in . 
the  confidence  of  that  quick,  assuring  glance. 


ANASTASIA' S  MARRIAGE.  24$ 

Wedding  breakfasts  are  often  but  sorry  affairs ;  how 
often  is  their  mirth  fictitious,  how  often  at  the  bottom  of 
the  laugh  and  the  wine- cup  is  there  some  pretence, 
disappointment,  or  uncertainty.  But  there  was  at  least 
the  semblance  of  joy  in  De  Burg  Hall  while  Anastasia 
queened  it  a  few  hours  longer  in  her  father's  house. 
She  sat  at  the  head  of  the  feast,  and  all  drank  to  her 
loveliness,  and  all  praised  her  past  and  gave  her  good 
wishes  for  her  future. 

Chenage  was  little  pleased  at  the  secondary  part  he 
had  to  play.  For  he  also  was  splendidly  attired  in  ruby 
velvet  and  white  satin,  with  ruby  brooches  fastening  the 
white  feathers  in  his  hat  and  the  satin  points  of  his 
doublet.  However,  there  are  times  when  the  surliest  of 
mortals  are  compelled  to  pretend  to  the  virtue  they  do 
not  possess,  and  a  man  has  an  obligation  at  least  to 
affect  happiness  on  his  wedding-day.  So  Chenage  drank 
deeply,  and  laughed  loudly,  and  complimented  himself, 
until  he  attained  a  comfortable  state  of  self-complaisance. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  his  carriage,  drawn  by  six 
horses,  drove  up  to  De  Burg  for  his  bride.  Anastasia 
saw  it  coming,  and  her  heart  sank  within  her.  To  hide 
her  tears  she  fled  to  her  room.  There  was  some  excuse 
made  of  necessary  changes  in  her  toilet,  but  with  or 
without  excuse  she  felt  she  could  no  longer  play  her 
part  unless  she  were  permitted  a  little  space  for  entire 
abandonment  of  it.  When  she  was  surely  alone,  and 
the  bolt  drawn  between  her  and  the  world,  what  a  trans 
formation  there  was  !  She  wrung  her  hands,  she  whis 
pered  passionate  words  of  wrong  and  misery  and  hate. 
She  forgot  the  waiting  coach  and  the  impatient  bride 
groom  ;  she  felt  nothing  and  cared  for  nothing  but  the 
outrageous  and  cruel  mockery  which  had  deprived  her 
of  freedom  and  driven  her  from  the  home  where  at 


246  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

least  she  had  been  loved  and  indulged  far  beyond  the 
women  of  her  generation. 

In  such  a  tempest  of  sorrow  she  forgot  time,  she  for 
got  the  ostensible  purpose  for  which  she  had  sought  her 
room.  She  was  recalled  to  the  facts  of  her  present 
state  by  a  sudden  sense  of  tumult  in  the  hall  where  the 
feast  was  spread.  She  stood  up  and  listened  intently, 
never  doubting  but  that  her  father  and  her  husband  had 
at  length  found  a  good  opportunity  for  the  quarrel 
latent  between  them.  A  feeling  of  satisfaction  sent 
smiles  to  her  lips  and  a  wicked  dancing  light  to  her 
eyes.  She  began  to  unfasten  the  white  knot  on  her 
brocaded  shoe,  and  to  count  the  pearls  with  which  the 
instep  was  ornamented,  asking  herself  the  while,  "  What 
need  to  hurry?"  If  Chenage  was  getting  his  first 
lesson,  she  would  give  her  father  time  to  make  it  a  very 
thorough  one. 

"  One,  two,  three,  four  large  pearls,  and  eleven  small 
ones.  I  must  have  lost  one.  What  is  the  matter?  I 
swear  they  are  fighting  !  That  is  my  father's  voice,  and, 
by  my  soul !  I  like  not  its  tone." 

She  instantly  clasped  the  shoe  on  her  foot  again  and 
went  swiftly  back  to  the  wedding  guests.  All  was  in  an 
uproar,  and  De  Burg  stood  foaming  with  passion  under 
the  iron  grip  of  two  soldiers.  Six  others  stood  at  the 
door ;  and  their  captain,  a  stern  old  man,  insensible  to 
all  earthly  voices  but  such  as  gave  an  order,  was  reading 
to  De  Burg  the  particular  one  under  which  he  was 
acting.  It  was  Cromwell's  own,  and  De  Burg  in  his 
fury  spit  at  it. 

Anastasia  needed  no  explanation.  She  clung  to  her 
father  with  tears  and  passionate  outcries ;  and  when 
Chenage  would  have  taken  her  in  his  own  arms  she 
turned  on  him  with  inconceivable  rage,  and  vowed  that 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  2\J 

"he,  and  only  he,  had  been  the  deceiver  and  the  be 
trayer  of  her  father."  Her  beauty,  her  rich  apparel,  her 
despairing  love  and  grief  for  her  father,  her  withering 
contempt  for  her  husband,  her  reckless  scorn  for  Crom 
well  and  all  of  Cromwell's  doings,  her  vehement  expres 
sions  of  loyalty  to  the  king,  invested  the  girl  with  an 
insolence  and  a  splendor  of  defiance  which  touched 
nearly  every  man  in  the  room. 

Le  Tall  fidgeted  from  window  to  window.  The  sol 
diers  glanced  from  under  dropped  eyelids,  and  were  as 
sorry  for  her  as  they,  dared  be  for  such  an  incarnation  of 
the  world  and  the  flesh.  Only  the  grim  Ironside  read 
ing  Cromwell's  order  was  indifferent  to  the  vision  of 
carnal  loveliness.  He  indeed  looked  at  Anastasia  for  a 
moment,  but  it  was  with  repulsion ;  and  though  she 
turned  to  him  with  eyes  swimming  with  tears,  he  gave 
the  order  for  De  Burg's  removal  as  resolutely  as'  if  he 
had  been  made  invulnerable  to  the  sweet  influences  of 
womankind. 

There  were  reasons  for  such  insensibility.  During  his 
stay  in  Kendal  he  had  made  himself  familiar  with  the 
nature,  the  history,  and  the  life  of  the  De  Burgs.  He 
read  Anastasia  as  if  her  face  was  a  printed  book.  He 
had  watched  all  of  De  Burg's  movements ;  he  had 
fathomed  the  depth  of  his  turpitude.  He  had  heard  and 
comprehended  the  whole  affair  relating  to  Roger  Pri- 
deaux.  He  thought  no  better  of  Anastasia  than  of  her 
father.  Her  beauty  was  the  Devil's  beauty,  and  he  saw 
behind  it  the  cruel  heart  and  the  false  tongue.  Silly 
men  might  fall  into  her  snares,  but  Captain  Giles  Quar- 
ritch  —  never ! 

Having  read  aloud  the  order  under  which  he  acted, 
he  gave  the  word  of  command.  Then  Le  Tall  stepped 
forward  and  said,  — 


248  FRIEND   OLIVIA, 

"  Captain,  consider  if  herein  bail  may  not  be  taken.  I 
would  myself  do  much." 

"  It  may  not  even  be  put  to  the  question,  sir.  I  act 
upon  first  orders." 

"  At  leastwise  suffer  your  prisoner  to  see  his  daughter 
away,  and  to  make  some  arrangements  concerning  his 
household." 

"  There  needs  no  more  ordering  of  it.  He  was  ready 
to  leave  England  for  France  this  sunset  had  he  not  been 
interrupted  in  his  intentions." 

"  Take  you  him  to  Lancaster  Castle  or  to  London  !  " 

"  He  goeth  to  Appleby  jail,  until  the  assize  settle  the 
quality  of  his  guilt." 

There  was  a  moment  of  high-strung  silence,  a  sharp 
cry,  and  Anastasia  fell  senseless  at  her  father's  feet. 
Some  women-servants  were  called,  and  they  carried  the 
insensible  bride  into  an  adjoining  room. 

She  came  back  to  consciousness  in  a  fit  of  hysterical 
weeping  which  she  was  unable  to  control.  It  ended  in  a 
deep  sleep,  and  the  afternoon  was  far  advanced  when  she 
awakened.  An  ominous  stillness  was  in  the  house.  Re 
fusing  all  assistance,  she  rose  and  went  to  the  dividing 
door  and  opened  it.  The  table  was  still  covered  with 
the  remains  of  the  feast,  but  the  guests  had  all  gone. 
The  hateful  Parliamentary  soldiers  had  also  left,  and 
they  had  taken  her  father  away  with  them.  To  Appleby  ! 
The  word  rung  in  her  ears  as  if  it  was  beat  upon  a 
thousand  anvils.  Pale  and  distraught,  she  stood  in  the 
doorway  gazing  upon  the  deserted  banquet.  Chenage 
soon  disturbed  her  revery. 

"  Come,  Mistress,"  he  said.  "  If  you  are  yourself 
again,  we  will  go  home.  This  house  is  worse  than  a 
nightmare." 

"  I  will  stay  here  until  my  father  comes  back." 


ANASTASIA'S  MARRIAGE.  249 

"  I  promise  you  will  be  at  Chenage  before  you  eat  or 
sleep  again.  Three  of  my  men  are  on  the  coach ;  be 
pleased  to  say  if  you  will  use  their  feet  or  your  own." 

Then  she  resolutely  called  her  soul  to  duty.  She  saw 
that  he  would  willingly  humiliate  her  if  she  permitted  him 
the  opportunity,  and  she  answered,  "I  am  ready.  Go 
when  you  will." 

"Take  off  that  finery;  pearls  are  not  bought  for  a 
penny  or  two.  You  may  lose  them." 

"  You  bought  them  not.  They  are  the  De  Burg 
pearls." 

"They  were.     They  are  now  mine." 

"  If  they  are  now  yours,  then  I  will  never  wear  them 
more.  Here  !  "  And  she  snatched  them  from  her  neck 
and  arms  and  bosom,  and  flung  them  on  the  floor  at  his 
feet.  Then  turning  from  him,  she  sent  one  of  her  women 
for  her  cloak  and  another  for  her  hood,  and  before  Chen- 
age  had  gathered  and  put  safely  into  his  pockets  the 
precious  beads  she  was  ready  for  the  journey. 

The  afternoon  was  well  on,  and  the  road  rough  and 
lonely.  The  hills  soon  shut  them  in,  and  as  the  sun  set 
the  mist  came  swooping  down  and  wrapped  them  in  its 
damp,  depressing  atmosphere.  Anastasia  sat  gazing  in 
ward,  backward,  forward,  —  anywhere  but  on  the  man  at 
her  side ;  and  the  servants,  who  had  expected  wine  and 
mirth  and  wedding  gifts,  sat  silent  also,  wondering  and 
disappointed.  Chenage  made  several  attempts  to  con 
ciliate  his  bride,  for  he  felt  both  wounded  and  mortified ; 
but  Anastasia  was  as  one  who  heard  not.  Her  fine  wed 
ding-dress  gleamed  in  the  gathering  darkness,  but  she 
took  no  heed  of  it,  though  it  caught  the  dust  of  the  high 
way  and  the  d#mp  and  tarnish  of  the  mist  and  the  mud 
and  water  of  the  rocky  becks. 

It   was   nine   o'clock   when    they   reached    Chenage 


2$O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Grange,  but  the  summer  twilight  cast  a  pallid,  mournful 
light,  making  all  things  unreal  and  shadowy.  She  glanced 
up  at  the  house  as  they  approached  it,  and  sighed  heavily. 
It  stood  gauntly  among  melancholy  moors  in  the  midst 
of  a  grove  of  decaying  trees.  There  was  a  garden  in 
front  of  it,  but  it  was  fallen  into  neglect,  and  made  sor 
rowful  by  the  shuddering  gloom  of  its  numerous  yew- 
trees.  A  doleful  house,  haunted  by  memories  of  evil- 
doing  and  wraiths  of  unredeemed  wrong. 

A  number  of  servants,  old  men  and  women,  stood  in 
the  hall  to  receive  their  new  mistress.  There  were  some 
candles  in  the  wall  sconces,  but  they  made  only  a  dull 
light  in  the  large  empty  place.  Still  it  was  enough  for 
Anastasia  to  see  the  gray  stooping  figures  of  her  new  do 
mestics  as  they  parted  to  let  her  pass  between  them. 

Trailing  her  lustrous  dress,  with  a  head  proudly  lifted, 
and  sad  eyes  seeing  nothing  but  the  steep  stairway  up 
which  Chenage  preceded  her,  Anastasia  entered  her 
new  home.  Two  old  men  soon  afterward  put  out  the 
lights,  and  as  they  did  so  they  shook  their  heads  at  each 
other  with  a  prophetic  intelligence  of  sorrow.  When 
this  duty  was  done  they  hobbled  back  to  the  kitchen  fire, 
where  the  women,  not  yet  too  old  to  be  envious  of  the 
bride's  beauty,  and  angry  at  her  for  neglecting  their  spe 
cial  claim  upon  her  notice,  sat  muttering  of  evil  portents. 

But  Anastasia  had  at  this  hour  no  thought  of  concilia 
tion,  no  wish  for  sympathy.  The  presumption  of  youth 
had  told  her  that  she  should  "  always  dwell  in  painless 
towers,"  and  it  was  hard  for  her  all  at  once  to  be  forced 
to  endure  both  the  present  and  the  oncoming  pang,  and 
to  acknowledge  to  herself  that  she  must  bear  her  destiny 
as  best  she  could,  knowing  w«ll  the  resistless  might  of 
necessity. 


XIII. 
OLIVIA  AND  ANASTASIA  WANTED. 

"  When  a  wrong  idea  possesses  any  woman  much  bitterness  flows  from 
her." 

"  See  how  faithless  is  the  female  race  —  and  ye  are  partners  in  what  has 
been  done." 

/"~PO  be  content  with  little  is  hard ;  to  be  content  with 
•*•  a  great  deal  is  almost  impossible.  While  Kel- 
derby  was  nearly  lost,  Lady  Kelder  had  made  but  very 
modest  demands  upon  the  future ;  now  that  there  was 
no  strange  finger  upon  its  title-deeds,  she  was  conscious 
of  more  comprehensive  expectations.  After  the  baron's 
return  she  went  about  her  fair  old  home  with  something 
of  the  same  elation  which  had  made  her  as  a  bride  so 
proudly  happy,  so  gratefully  aware  of  her  fine  position. 
Then  the  care  that  had  been  second  became  prime,  and 
she  felt  that  it  was  impossible  to  be  content  unless  Na 
thaniel  could  be  induced  to  give  up  Olivia. 

"  And  I  look  to  fight  this  battle  alone,  Jael,"  she  said ; 
"  for  as  the  baron  grows  old,  he  grows  more  careless  in 
particulars.  I  trow  he  would  make  the  narrow  road  to 
heaven  wide  enough  for  all  sorts  of  men,  even  such  as 
the  Quakers." 

"  I  think,  my  Lady,  you  are  such  an  one  as  would  like 
a  great  company  with  you  on  heaven's  highway.  Maybe 
them  as  wants  to  go  there  alone  won't  get  there  at  all." 

"  Jael,  I  am  not  a  bigot,  and  you  know  it ;  but  I  do 
like  people  to  be  either  saints  or  sinners," 


252  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Not  in  nature,  my  Lady.  There  be  plenty  of  shades 
between  white  and  black,  and  twilight  comes  between 
day  and  night,  —  middling  kinds  everywhere." 

"  Then  I  will  none  of  them.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Duttred 
says  that  Quakers  have  neither  churches  nor  priests  nor 
creeds,  being  all  in  themselves.  If  a  man  is  a  Christian, 
he  has  a  creed.  You  know  that,  Jael." 

"  Indeed,  my  Lady,  if  men  must  learn  theology  ere 
they  learn  Christ,  our  blessed  heaven  will  be  empty,  —  I 
know  that ;  and  't  is  most  sure  that  the  Quakers  pattern 
their  lives  after  Christ.  On  Prideaux's  estate  there  be 
none  poor,  and  the  old  and  the  sick  want  neither  help 
nor  comfort.  Mistress  Prideaux  taught  old  John  of 
Scraffel  Fell  to  read  his  Bible,  and  't  is  a  common  report 
that  she  pays  Dame  Boyd  to  teach  the  lads  and  lasses 
day  by  day." 

"Small  thanks  to  her.  I  like  not  people  educated 
above  their  wits.  Fill  a  cup  beyond  what  it  will  hold, 
and  it  slops  over  to  no  decent  purpose ;  and  I  can  tell 
you  this,  Jael,  the  little  cups  are  very  plenty." 

"True,  my  Lady." 

On  the  very  night  of  his  return  home  the  baron  had 
told  Lady  Kelder  of  Olivia's  interview  with  the  Protector. 
"A  lovely  girl,"  he  said,  "who  affected  his  spiritual  na 
ture  in  the  same  way  as  a  beautiful  view  affected  his  eye." 

"  Who  was  with  her  ?  How  was  she  dressed  ?  What 
was  her  behaviour?  " 

"  She  came  into  the  presence  with  George  Fox.  Her 
dress  was  of  a  rich  dark  satin  ;  her  head  was  uncovered  ; 
her  hands  were  dropped  and  lightly  clasped.  She  hath 
a  very  comely  face,  and  great  wisdom  and  composure." 

"  I  will  warrant  the  '  composure,'  for  I  must  tell  you  I 
went  to  call  upon  her,  being  anxious,  for  Nathaniel'3 
sake,  to  see  if  there  was  any  good  thing  in  her.  Com- 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         253 

posure  !  Faith  !  she  was  like  a  marble  woman ;  and  I 
vow,  as  I  am  Lady  Kelder,  that  she  almost  dismissed  me 
her  presence." 

"Nay,  then  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  mean  not  in  so  many  words,  but  she  rose  up 
and  asked  if  I  would  eat  or  drink,  and  the  motion  so  fit 
into' my  own  mood  that  I  followed  it  and  rose  also  with 
out  consideration.  I  have  had  a  spite  at  myself  ever 
since  " 

"  I  think,  indeed,  that  Nathaniel  might  seek  farther 
for  a  wife  and  find  worse." 

"  I  would  rather  he  never  married  at  all." 

"  Joan  !  Who,  then,  comes  after  him  ?  Would  you 
have  Kelderby  go  to  my  second  cousin  Nicholas  and  his 
sons?" 

"  I  hate  Nicholas  Kelder,  but  he  is  better  than  Olivia." 

"Joan,  you  talk  only  from  your  lips  outward.  The 
girl  is  lovely  and  good  and  hath  the  likelihood  of  a  fine 
estate.  For  my  part,  I  wish  no  greater  ill  may  ever 
come  to  Nathaniel  than  his  full  wish  in  the  matter  of 
Olivia  Prideaux." 

"  I  think  she  casts  a  spell  over  every  man.  If  good 
King  James  were  yet  alive  she  would  be  counted  a  witch. 
And  if  she  hath  you  on  one  side  and  Nathaniel  on  the 
other,  pray  shall  I  walk  behind  her?  "  • 

"  You  and  I  are  one,  Joan." 

"  Not  if  the  Quakeress  comes  between  us.  And  I  tell 
you  plainly,  Odinel,  I  will  not  have  her  under  this  roof, 
nor  yet  will  I  give  Swaffham  for  her  use,  nor  will  I  ever 
give  her  welcome  as  Nathaniel's  wife.  Faith  !  for  one 
so  wondrous  fair  and  wise  the  place  is  too  small  for 
her  deserts." 

This  was  the  keynote  of  Lady  Kelder's  domestic 
mood,  as  that  mood  affected  Nathaniel  and  Olivia.  But 


254  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

Nathaniel  was  a  wise  young  man,  and  knew  how  to  guide 
his  affairs  without  making  any  offensive  parade  of  his 
independence.  Affection  and  reflection  had  alike  taught 
him  that  there  was  neither  honour  nor  self-respect  in  a 
victory  of  any  kind  over  his  mother.  He  could,  despite 
of  her,  take  his  own  way ;  but  how  unblessed  and  sad  a 
way  it  would  be  if,  in  order  to  take  it,  he  must  tread  un 
der  his  feet  even  the  prejudices  of  a  heart  so  dear  to 
him  ! 

So  though  he  went  to  see  Olivia  constantly,  there  was 
as  little  remark  as  might  be  concerning  the  visits.  For 
life  at  Sandys  had  fallen  into  orderly  grooves.  Hannah 
Mettelane  would  suffer  no  usual  duty  to  be  neglected. 
The  farm-men  went  about  the  haymaking  and  shearing 
and  harvesting  as  if  Roger  was  only  on  a  journey  and 
might  be  home  at  any  hour.  The  confections  and  sweet 
waters  were  made  in  their  order  and  season.  The  still- 
room  was  crowded  with  bowls  and  platters  holding  sweet 
herbs  and  brews.  The  atmosphere  of  the  house  was  like 
a  spice-garden,  and  the  garden  itself  as  gay  as  if  it  was 
an  outgarth  of  Paradise. 

Roger  wrote  once  a  week  to  his  daughter  and  his  sister. 
He  made  no  complaint  of  suffering  or  ill-usage,  and  it  was 
so  natural  to  hope  for  the  best  that  perhaps  more  was 
hoped  than  there  was  warrant  for.  But  Roger's  trial 
was  to  take  place  in  September,  and  the  time  was  always 
spoken  of  as  that  of  "  Roger's  return." 

One  day  toward  the  end  of  August,  Nathaniel  went  to 
Sandys  early  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  a  hot  day,  full  of 
brilliant  sunshine.  The  shadows  were  diaphanously  pur 
plish,  the  winds  were  all  at  peace,  and  a  mysterious  calm 
brooded  over  the  lonely  land.  Never  had  the  long,  ram 
bling  house  had  an  air  so  homelike  and  so  ancient.  It 
seemed  as  much  a  part  of  the  landscape  as  the  distant 


OLIVIA  AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         255 

hills  or  the  brawling  trout- stream,  which  was  one  of  its 
boundaries. 

Between  the  garden  and  the  park  there  was  a  row  of 
sycamore  trees,  and  in  their  amber  shadows  he  tied  his 
horse ;  for  he  expected  Olivia  to  be  in  the  garden,  and 
he  went  up  and  down  it  looking  for  her.  There  was  not 
a  sound  except  the  busy  murmur  of  the  bees  around  their 
hives,  —  straw  skeps,  full  of  the  scent  of  mountain  flow 
ers  and  the  aroma  of  pine  woods.  Near  them  was  a 
trickling  spring,  and  like  sentinels  around  it  the  August 
lilies  stood,  —  virgin  flowers,  exhaling  the  airs  of  heaven, 
and  clad  in  the  lawn  of  almost  naked  light. 

As  he  gazed  at  them,  spellbound  by  their  sweet  purity, 
he  saw  Olivia  coming  toward  him.  She  also  was  ciothed 
in  white,  and  her  tall,  slight  form  and  pale,  radiant  face 
gave  her  a  strange  similitude  to  the  flowers.  He  has 
tened  to  meet  her ;  he  took  her  hands  in  his  and  led  her 
to  the  shaded  seat  beside  the  fountain  and  the  lilies. 
How  full  of  meaning  were  their  common  words  of  cour 
tesy  !  How  eloquent  her  speaking  face,  her  clear,  candid 
eyes,  the  light  touch  of  her  hand  upon  his  arm  ! 

He  spoke  to  her  first  of  those  ordinary  mutual  interests 
which  he  always  found  it  well  to  use  as  introductory. 
For  Olivia  was  no  babbler  and  no  complainer.  The  ten 
dency  of  women  with  their  lovers  is  to  meet  them  with 
some  tale  of  sorrow  or  of  petty  tyranny,  and  so  to  enlist 
either  a  true  or  an  affected  sympathy.  Olivia  would  not 
so  wrong  herself;  she  was  just,  and  would  not  wrong 
others ;  she  trusted  Nathaniel's  love  and  knew  that  it 
could  not  be  increased  by  sentimental  complaining,  nor 
made  more  tender  by  fictitious  opposition.  She  would 
have  scorned  the  love  which  required  nurturing  by  means 
so  false  and  contemptible. 

So  hitherto  their  courtship  had  been  undimmed  by  un- 


2 $6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

necessary  complaining  and  tears.  As  for  their  real  sor 
rows,  they  were  discussed  simply,  without  exaggeration, 
and  in  confidence  with  all  who  shared  them.  This  after 
noon,  however,  Nathaniel  felt,  rather  than  saw,  some  new 
cause  of  distress ;  but  he  waited  patiently  for  Olivia  to 
open  her  heart  to  him,  and  she  was  not  in  a  hurry  to 
cloud  the  calm  rapture  of  their  meeting.  She  listened 
to  all  his  doings  and  plans,  —  his  hopes  of  a  return 
to  Parliament,  his  militia  honours  and  annoyances,  his 
anxieties  about  his  father's  health,  his  pleasant  sym 
pathies  in  his  mother's  successes  with  her  cosmetics  and 
confections. 

Then  there  was  a  little  pause.  Her  head  lay  back 
ward  against  the  green  wall  of  privet.  Nathaniel  clasped 
her  hand.  The  warm,  sweet  garden  was  full  of  peace  and 
fragrance  ;  it  was  all  their  own.  In  their  simple  nearness 
to  each  other  they  were  blissfully  happy,  but  they  did 
not  tell  each  other  so ;  for  the  sense  of  happiness  which 
makes  us  silent  is  far  superior  to  that  which  makes  us  elo 
quent,  and  Joy  is  shyer  than  Grief,  —  the  heavenly  visi 
tant  but  flutters  a  moment  between  two  hearts  and  is 
gone.  Olivia  broke  the  spell  with  a  sigh,  and  then  he 
heard  the  words  he  had  been  half  fearing  to  hear,  — 

"Nathaniel,  there  hath  been  a  sad  letter  from  my 
father." 

'  My  dear  heart !     I  felt  it.     Surely  he  is  not  ill?  " 

"  My  father  is  well,  but  Asa  Bevin  is  very  sick  indeed. 
I  fear  that  lie  will  not  recover.  Also,  De  Burg  hath 
an  inflammation,  and  is  out  of  reason  and  beyond 
management." 

"  De  Burg  '  sick  and  in  prison.'  That  concerns  me, 
Olivia." 

"  I  think  so.  My  father  is  caring  for  him ;  but  Asa  is 
also  in  his  charge,  and  I  fear  that  the  labour  will  be  too 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED. 

great  for  him.  Nathaniel,  I  think  that  I  ought  to  go  to 
Appleby." 

"  I  will  go  for  you.  'T  is  beyond  reason  that  you 
should  go.  Also,  I  do  not  think  that  you  would  be  let 
behind  bars.  And,  my  dear  one,  how  could  you  bear  it, 
if  you  were  ?  " 

"  There  are  more  than  fifty  women  Friends  now  in 
common  jails  for  conscience'  sake.  Many  of  them  are 
even  more  delicately  nurtured  than  I.  And  Asa  is  not 
only  Asa.  There  is  One  who  deigns  to  hold  Asa's  suffer 
ings  as  his  own.  I  cannot  have  him  say  to  my  heart,  '  I 
was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me  not.'  How  could  I  bear  such 
a  reproach?  " 

"What  says  Mistress  Mettelane?  " 

"  She  thinks  that  going  before  our  set  time  is  but  a 
forcing  of  Providence.  But,  Nathaniel,  my  dear  one,  she 
hath  the  making  of  the  elderflower  wine  on  her  hands, 
and  she  cannot  see  how  a  greater  duty  must  put  by  a 
lesser  one.  Her  conscience  is  very  tender,  but  it  is  near 
sighted.  What  is  far  off,  or  what  is  far  away,  troubles 
it  not." 

"  In  general  it  is  a  good  spirit.  Sufficient  unto  the 
day  is  the  care  of  the  day ;  and  in  this  matter  I  think 
you  may  be  guided  by  your  aunt.  I  will  go  to  Appleby ; 
I  will  go  at  once." 

"  I  cannot  take  '  think.'  I  must  be  sure.  And  not  any 
one,  not  even  thee,  dear  Nathaniel,  can  do  my  duty  for 
me." 

"Well,  then?" 

"I  will  seek  clearness. and  counsel  this  night,  and  the 
way  He  shows  me  I  will  take,  however  strait  it  be." 

"  Oh,  Olivia  !  You  do  not  know  what  a  jail  is ;  even 
to  see  its  horrors,  will  terrify  you." 

"  Many  of  my  sisters  are  living  in  its  horrors.  I  wish 
17 


258  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

not  to  pass  my  days  more  at  ease  in  this  world  than 
Christ  passed  his,  —  than  those  bearing  his  testimony 
have  the  measure  of." 

"  But,  dearest,  this  jail  is  a  very  valley  of  death." 

"  The  snares  of  life  are  greater  than  the  fears  of  death. 
And  thou  knowest  that  there  is  a  life  unknown,  hid  from 
men,  but  most  intimate  with  God.  This  life  is  indifferent 
to  its  surroundings.  It  is  as  possible  in  Appleby  jail  as 
in  this  fair  garden  of  Sandys.  A  dear  friend  who  visited 
my  father  told  him  that  while  lying  in  the  common  jail 
at  Dover  Castle  he  knew  the  glory  of  this  hidden  life. 
'  Roger,'  he  said,  '  as  I  lay  upon  my  bed  of  straw  in  a 
comfortable  sleep  and  rest,  the  hand  of  my  God  fell  upon 
me,  and  his  sweet  and  comforting  presence  awakened 
me,  and  so  continued  with  me  unto  the  morning  watch ; 
and  my  soul  was  filled  with  his  living  presence,  as  with  a 
mighty  river,  so  that  nothing  appeared  but  joy  and  glad 
ness.'  This  also  is  my  God,  and  I  have  waited  for  him. 
So  thou  seest  this  life  hid  with  God  is  not  dependent  on 
outward  circumstances.  And  if  I  would  keep  peace  at 
home,  —  that  is,  in  my  own  soul,  —  I  must  not  wrong  my 
conscience.  In  the  morning,  come,  and  I  will  go  with 
thee,  or  send  by  thee ;  I  am  ready,  as  the  way  is 
opened." 

"  I  will  come.  What  are  the  particulars  concerning  my 
cousin  De  Burg?" 

"  He  hath  been  unmanageable  from  the  first,  and  hath 
drunk  much  wine.  Now  he  knows  not  anything,  and  my 
father  thinks  him  to  be  in  a  very  bad  condition." 

"A  sharp  sauce  has  De  Bujg  got  himself  with  the 
cursedness  of  his  own  way." 

"  Thou  shouldst  not  reproach  the  unhappy.  The  hand 
of  God  is  upon  them." 

He  could  oppose  her  will  no  longer.     Her  holy  eyes 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.          2$$ 

pleaded  with  him,  —  nay,  they  commanded  him,  and  he 
felt  obliged  to  heed  them. 

But  it  was  with  an  anxious  and  sorrowful  heart  that  he 
returned  to  Kelderby.  The  baron  and  Lady  Kelder  had 
been  talking  of  their  son  and  Olivia  Prideaux,  and  Lady 
Kelder  was  angry  at  what  she  considered  the  sinful  indif 
ference  of  her  husband.  But  Kelder  had  come  to  that 
time  of  life  when  he  did  not  care  to  be  continually  med 
dling  with  what  he  could  not  mend ;  and  he  knew  his 
son  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  passionate  disapproval 
and  sharp  words  would  not  change  him. 

"  Dear  heart,"  he  said,  "  you  are  wide  and  foolish  in 
your  conjectures  when  you  guess  at  Nathaniel's  temper. 
You  would  succeed  better  with  fewer  and  kinder  words, 
constantly  yet  not  perversely  urged.  Where  one  cannot 
drive  a  nail,  Joan,  it  is  often  possible  to  put  in  a  screw." 

But  women,  as  a  rule,  prefer  to  fasten  their  opinions 
with  the  nail ;  and  on  this  night  the  method  appeared  a 
peculiarly  good  one  to  Lady  Kelder.  She  was  in  that 
impatient  mood  which  cannot  endure  suspense.  She 
wanted  to  know  the  best  and  the  worst  of  the  matter,  — 
if  there  was  any  best  in  it ;  and  when  she  turned  to  the 
opening  door  which  admitted  Nathaniel,  the  inquiry  in  all 
its  aggressive  indignation  was  on  her  face. 

Nathaniel  was  dusty  and  weary,  for  he  had  ridden  hard, 
and  there  was  in  his  countenance  and  air  a  sense  of 
trouble  which  displeased  and  piqued  his  mother.  She 
felt  at  once  that  it  referred  to  Sandys.  Nathaniel  always 
brought  trouble  home  by  that  way.  She  looked  pointedly 
at  his  disordered  toilet,  and  Nathaniel  nervously  an 
nounced  his  intention  of  renewing  it  before  he  ate.  She 
permitted  him  to  do  so  without  dissent.  He  would  have 
given  the  Quakeress  so  much  respect,  she  was  sure,  and 
she  would  not  have  one  tittle  less  for  her  own  part.  But 


260  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

she  atoned  for  this  strict  demand  of  the  anise  and  cum 
min  due  to  affection  by  ordering  him  just  the  refresh 
ment  she  knew  he  would  enjoy.  And  she  welcomed 
him  to  it  with  smiles,  and  served  the  food  with  her  own 
hands. 

Nathaniel  showed  his  pleasure  and  gratitude  by  lifting 
her  face  to  his  own  and  kissing  it.  She  almost  forgave 
him  everything  in  that  gentle  act,  until  she  reflected  that 
he  had  probably  just  kissed  also  "that  Quaker  girl." 
The  thought  chilled  her  at  once.  She  sat  down,  and 
waited  for  her  opportunity. 

The  baron  had  laid  aside  his  book  and  was  walking  up 
and  down  the  fast- darkening  room.  Something  in  his 
son's  face  and  manner  had  impressed  him,  as  well  as 
Lady  Kelder,  with  "a  sense  of  unpleasant  news;  and  he 
had  been  listening  to  her  anticipations  of  more  trouble 
with  a  presentiment  that  they  were  true. 

"Where  have  you  been,  Nathaniel?" 

"  I  have  been  to  Sandys,  Father." 

"  Of  course.  His  horse  goes  as  naturally  to  Sandys, 
Baron,  as  it  goes  to  its  manger." 

Nathaniel  glanced  at  his  mother's  darkening  face,  but 
made  no  answer.  The  baron  said  "  Chut !  "  impatiently, 
and  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  looking  at  his 
son. 

"  We  are  expecting  ill  news  from  you,  Nathaniel,  and, 
as  all  seasons  are  seasonable  for  men  to  be  anxious  and 
unhappy,  deliver  it  without  preliminaries." 

"  De  Burg  is  very  ill.  He  has  lost  his  reason,  and  is, 
I  think,  like  to  die." 

"  Well,  then,  only  death  restrains  wicked  men  from 
doing  more  mischief." 

"  Dear  mother,  he  is  of  our  kin.  He  is  alone,  and 
sick,  and  in  prison.  You  know  what  I  ought  to  do." 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.          26 1 

"  You  ought  to  leave  him  alone,  and  sick,  and  in 
prison.  Never  does  God  Almighty  give  the  wicked  their 
desert  in  this  world  but  some  one,  out  of  a  spurious  and 
unrighteous  pity,  must  interfere  with  the  Almighty's  jus 
tice.  Leave  De  Burg  alone.  There  are  poisonous 
families  as  there  are  poisonous  reptiles ;  the  De  Burgs 
hurt  all  who  come  nigh  them." 

"  What  is  your  thought,  Nathaniel?  " 

"  I  think,  Father,  that  I  ought  to  go  to  Appleby,  and 
see  that  our  cousin  hath  proper  care.  If  a  good  man  is 
sick,  God  makes  his  bed  for  him,  and  then  how  can  it 
choose  but  be  well  made,  and  be  made  to  please  him  ? 
But  the  sick-bed  of  a  bad  man,  without  earthly  friends 
or  heavenly  friends  !  Sure,  it  is  a  piteous  case,  Father. 
What  say  you?  " 

"  If  your  conscience  bids  you  go,  Nathaniel,  you  get 
your  orders  from  headquarters.  I  dare  not  give  you 
counter-orders.  Only  be  sure  that  you  feel  what  you 
think,  or  else  you  lie  to  yourself." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Baron,  that  your  religion  is  for  use 
in  some  other  life  than  this  one.  When  God  punishes 
our  enemies  we  have  plenty  of  warrant  for  rejoicing  in 
their  punishment." 

"An  eye  for  an  eye,  truly,  in  the  Old  Testament. 
But,  Joan,  we  have  come  not  unto  Sinai,  but  unto  Mount 
Zion  and  the  gospel  of  peace  and  good-will." 

"  Was  it  indeed  good-will  that  made  Paul  strike 
Elymas  blind  ?  and  Saint  Peter  slay  Ananias  and  Sapphira 
for  a  sin  which  Peter  himself  had  been  guilty  of  in  a 
worse  kind?  Was  it  a  gospel  of  good-will  that  made 
the  disciples  forbid  the  Syro- Phoenician  woman?  Yet  they 
also  had  come  under  the  dispensation  of  Mount  Zion." 

"  They  were  but  men,  dear  Joan.  Let  us  look  higher. 
What  of  the  works  of  Jesus  Christ?  Were  they  not  all 


262  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

saving  works  ?  It  is  not  Paul,  not  Peter,  but  Christ,  that 
we  must  copy." 

"  It  seemeth  to  me  that  it  goes  harder  with  saints 
than  sinners  on  all  hands." 

Neither  Nathaniel  nor  the  baron  answered  her.  They 
were  both  capable  of  that  restraint  which  is  characteristic 
of  real  strength.  Nathaniel  was  sure  of  his  duty,  and 
the  baron  was  not  inclined  to  tamper  with  either  his  own 
or  his  son's  conscience.  He  had  come  to  those  reason 
able  years  when  the  forces  of  the  senses  and  the  body 
retire  into  the  mind.  For  the  evening  of  a  good  life 
brings  its  lamp  with  it,  and  by  this  light  Baron  Kelder 
saw  many  things  clearly  that  he  had  not  seen  at  all  when 
his  natural  sight  was  keen  and  undimmed.  So,  under 
standing  there  was  no  wisdom  like  silence,  he  held  his 
peace,  and  continued  his  soft,  slow  walk  up  and  down 
the  room.  But  his  manner  was  that  of  one  who  has 
examined  a  subject  and  decided  upon  it. 

"  Our  good  is  what  does  us  good,  and  we  are  not 
innocent  if  we  harm  ourselves.  I  don't  think  the  Al 
mighty  objects  if  we  care  a  little  for  our  own  welfare. 
There  is  always  fever  in  a  jail,  and  I  think,  Baron,  you 
and  Nathaniel  ought  to  remember  that." 

"  Asa  Bevin  is  very  ill  with  jail  fever." 

The  words  cost  Nathaniel  an  effort.  He  felt  that  he 
ought  to  have  spoken  of  Asa,  and  of  Olivia's  desire  to  go 
to  Appleby,  before  he  discussed  the  case  of  De  Burg. 
Now  he  must  suffer  —  almost  righteously  —  the  suspicion 
sure  to  follow  his  belated  honesty.  Lady  Kelder  looked 
quickly  at  him,  and  he  was  still  innocent  and  ingenuous 
enough  to  blush  for  his  want  of  candour. 

"  Is  the  Quaker  Prideaux  sick  also  ?  " 

"  He  is  well,  but  he  is  worn  out  with  nursing  both 
Asa  and  De  Burg." 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         263 

"Is  the  Quakeress  going  to  Appleby?" 

"  'T  is  yet  uncertain.  Her  aunt  is  opposed  to  the 
journey  until  the  set  time  arrives.  Olivia  Prideaux  has 
not  yet  he  ard  '  the  Voice  '  she  waits  for." 

"  Notify  the  girl  by  day-dawning  that  you  are  going. 
You  will  see  then  that  she  will  hear  what  she  desires  to 
hear.  Nathaniel,  I  would  have  taken  the  shame  and 
wrong  more  easily  had  you  given  it  to  me  with  honesty. 
'T  is  a  most  evil  journey  that  De  Burg  has  to  be  cloak  for." 

She  felt  that  there  was  enough  of  truth  in  this  accusa 
tion  to  warrant  it.  It  gave  her  a  justifiable  cause  of 
reproach,  and  honourable  exit  from  a  position  hard  to 
maintain.  Yet  she  left  the  room  dissatisfied  with  her 
self,  and  convinced  —  though  she  had  prevented  Na 
thaniel  from  convincing  her  —  that  her  son  was  innocent 
of  the  deception  she  affected  to  believe  in. 

Silence  followed  her  departure.  The  baron  sat  down 
in  his  chair  and  closed  his  eyes.  He  had  the  attitude  of 
a  man  who,  having  come  near  to  his  journey's  end,  has 
ceased  to  interest  himself  about  the  peculiarities  of  the 
road.  Nathaniel  moved  away  from  the  table.  A  ser 
vant  came  in  with  lights,  another  carried  out  the  used 
platters  and  broken  meat.  There  was  not  a  word 
spoken,  but  the  silence  was  a  restful  one ;  it  made  no 
impression  of  ill-feeling  upon  those  who  were  uncon 
cerned  in  it ;  it  fell  upon  Nathaniel's  fretted  heart  like  a 
cool  shadow. 

He  was  the  first  to  break  its  spell.  "  Father,  I  shall 
leave  early  in  the  morning.  To  my  mother  say  all  for 
me  that  you  think  kind  and  right." 

"  Yes,  yes.  But  she  loves  you,  Nathaniel,  —  and  she 
suffers." 

"  I  wish  she  would  not  take  or  make  trouble  on  this 
subject." 


264  FRIEND   CLIVIA. 

"  If  she  could  forget  that  you  are  her  son,  it  would  be 
possible.  Would  you  wish  it?" 

"  God  forbid  !  Do  you  object  to  my  caring  for  De 
Burg?" 

"  I  thank  you  for  it.  If  you  go  not,  then  I  shall  go 
myself.  I  was  wondering  if  Mistress  Chenage  knew  of 
her  father's  sickness." 

"  I  deem  it  unlikely.  Roger  Prideaux  would  not 
write  to  her.  There  is  no  one  else  to  do  so." 

"  I  will  write  her  a  letter  to-morrow.  Luke  Tyson 
can  carry  it." 

"  'T  is  a  kind  thought.  Since  her  marriage  I  have  not 
seen  her.  Before,  't  was  a  strange  day  if  she  was  not  on 
Kendal  streets." 

"  I  know  not  Roger  Chenage,  but  his  father  had  an 
ill  name.  Hard  men  are  the  Chenages,  —  and  have 
been." 

He  said  the  words  musingly,  and  Nathaniel  did  not 
reply  to  them.  A  reluctance  to  converse,  a  disposition 
to  reflection,  would  not  be  put  aside  by  any  matter  of 
conversation ;  and  both  men  were  so  frank  with  them 
selves  and  with  each  other  as  to  admit  and  welcome  this 
strange  central  longing  for  rest.  For  as  the  whirlwind 
has  its  heart  of  peace,  so  the  truest  life,  though  in  a 
vortex  of  wheeling,  restless  cares,  has  also  its  innermost 
cell  into  which  it  retires  when  it  is  weary,  in  order  that 
it  may  be  alone  with  that  —  call  it  by  whatever  name  we 
will  —  which  is  not  self. 

Nathaniel  left  Kelderby  so  early  next  morning  that  he 
was  at  Sandys  in  time  for  breakfast.  He  had  no  need 
to  ask  for  Olivia's  decision;  the  preparations  for 'the 
journey  were  evident.  Aunt  Hannah,  a  little  flustered 
and  worried,  with  her  best  dress  turned  back  and  pinned 
at  the  waist,  was  giving  directions  to  the  servants.  The 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         26$ 

coach  was  at  the  door,  and  two  men  were  packing  into 
it  a  number  of  those  trivialities  without  which  women  do 
not  travel.  Olivia  soon  appeared  in  a  gray  duffle  dress 
and  cloak,  and  a  hood  of  black  silk  upon  her  head. 

"  My  dear  Nathaniel !  " 

"  You  are  going,  then,  Olivia?  " 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  my  duty  to  go." 

"  Maybe  you  are  a  bit  opinion-tied  in  such  matters, 
Olivia.  Surely  to  goodness,  if  God  Almighty  wanted 
some  help  for  Roger  and  Asa  Bevin,  he  would  be  as 
likely  to  think  of  a  middle-aged  woman  like  Hannah 
Mettelane  as  of  a  slip  of  a  girl  who  has  n't  got  her  full 
strength  yet.  And  I  must  say  that  the  Lord  has  not 
given  me  any  orders  about  going  to  Appleby." 

"  Didst  thou  ask  him  for  any,  Aunt  Hannah  ?  " 

"  Nay,  my  dear  lass,  I  did  not.  I  do  my  day-by-day 
duty,  content  with  the  charge  of  it.  Many  shoulders 
ask  for  burdens  they  aren't  fit  to  bear." 

"  But  the  cross  is  not  to  be  passed,  Aunt  Hannah." 

"  To  be  sure  it  is  n't.  I  never  pass  a  cross  that  is  in 
my  way,  Olivia ;  and  I  never  go  out  of  my  way  to  find  a 
cross.  But  you  take  after  your  father;  you  cannot  be 
satisfied  unless  you  are  helping  other  people  to  bear 
their  crosses.  There,  now  !  say  no  more.  I  am  ready 
to  go  with  you,  though  it  is  a  bit  hard  to  leave  a  house 
like  this  with  servants.  You  know  how  they  go  hugger- 
muggering  about,  doing  nought  at  all  they  can  help 
doing,  and  doing  everything  wrong  they  have  to  put 
their  hands  to.  However,  we  must  do  right,  whatever 
happens,  and  may  we  prosper  !  " 

"  I  think,  Mistress  Mettelane,  that  we  cannot  be  wrong 
in  a  work  of  charity  and  human  kindness." 

"  True,  Captain.  Charity  is  a  great  thing,  but  there 
is  a  deal  to  be  said  for  the  little  household  graces  that 


266  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

never  go  to  church  and  market,  but  just  stay  at  home 
and  make  a  quiet  joyful  life  possible.  Dear  me  !  we 
should  be  on  the  move  now.  Come,  Olivia  !  We  must 
take  time  while  time  is,  for  time  will  away." 

"  I  think  we  shall  have  a  good  journey." 

"  Well,  Captain,  I  think  so,  too.  I  always  hope  for 
the  best,  and  we  never  know  where  a  blessing  may  light. 
Jeffrey  threw  his  staff  this  morning  when  he  brought  the 
coach  to  the  door,  and  it  fell  the  way  we  are  to  take, 
—  Appleby  way,  —  and  that  is  a  good  sign  for  any 
journey." 

They  were  making  their  last  preparations  as  Hannah 
Mettelane  talked.  With  her  pleasant  garrulousness  she 
was  trying  to  put  aside  that  sense  of  leave-taking  which, 
under  the  circumstances,  could  not  be  void  of  many 
fears  and  anxieties ;  and  Olivia  perceived  and  seconded 
her  kind  intention  as  well  as  she  was  able.  As  she  stood 
tying  her  hood  and  cloak,  she  said,  — 

"John  Duttred  called  last  night,  Nathaniel,  and  said 
many  kind  things." 

"  And  some  that  were  n't  as  kind  as  might  have  been. 
But  I  let  him  feel  that  ministers  have  n't  a  monopoly  of 
sharp  talk,  for  when  he  began  about  the  Good  Samaritan, 
I  said,  '  If  I  was  a  minister,  John  Duttred,  I  would  let  that 
parable  lie  quiet.  It  sets  ministers  in  a  bad  light,  — 
it  does  that !  '  "  And  Hannah  laughed  good-naturedly, 
and  with  the  laugh  put  her  first  foot  into  the  coach. 

While  the  two  ladies,  accompanied  by  Nathaniel, 
travelled  the  hot,  dusty  highway  which  led  to  Appleby, 
Luke  Tyson  was  going  at  a  comfortable  speed  toward 
Chenage  Grange.  The  Baron  had  given  him  no  special 
orders  to  hurry,  and  Luke  was  naturally  of  a  grave  and 
deliberate  temper.  He  stayed  at  various  farmhouses 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         267 

for  a  drink  of  milk ;  and  he  had  two  long  religious  dis 
cussions,  —  one  with  a  Quaker  laying  a  stone  wall,  and 
the  other  with  a  dreamy  Fifth  Monarchy  fanatic,  who 
was  singing  "Jerusalem  the  Golden"  as  he  rode  slowly 
through  the  ferns  and  heather  of  Chenage  Moor. 

It  was  about  seven  in  the  evening  when  he  reached 
the  Grange.  The  doors  were  open,  and  the  sun  still 
above  the  horizon ;  but  nevertheless  the  house  had  a 
lonely,  inhospitable  look,  and  he  had  to  wait  several 
minutes  before  any  servant  appeared  to  inquire  his  er 
rand.  They  were  all  at  meat,  and  pleasantly  employed 
in  masticating  their  mutton  and  discussing  the  attitude 
of  their  master  and  mistress  to  each  other,  as  reported 
by  the  old  steward,  Gilbert. 

"  She  be  a  Tartar,  she  be  that !  I  wonder  Master 
bides  her  airs  and  her  tempers  as  well  as  he  do." 

"  Master  allays  speaks  middling  sharp  like  to  her. 
He  speaks  so  all  day  long  and  every  day.  As  for  her 
temper,  it 's  past  all ;  and  I  don't  wonder  it  breeds  tem 
per.  Master  never  was  a  peaceable  sort  of  a  fellow. 
There  is  somebody  halloing,  and  has  been  for  five  min 
utes.  One  never  can  get  time  to  eat  a  bit  of  meat  and 
have  a  comfortable  talk  without  being  put  about  one 
way  or  another.  Thomas  Hodges,  go  and  see  whatever 
that  fool  is  halloing  for." 

Thomas  was  detained  at  least  ten  minutes,  and  curi 
osity  was  greatly  excited.  When  he  returned  to  the 
kitchen,  there  were  plenty  of  questions  for  him  to 
answer. 

"  Why,  Thomas,  whatever  has  been  the  matter  ?  " 

"  A  letter  for  Mistress's  own  hand." 

"Who  brought  it?" 

"One  of  the  men  from   Kelderby." 

"  T  would  be  from  the  young  captain,  I  '11  warrant. 


268  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

He  was  her  servant  for  long  years,  and  sick  with  love 
for  her.  Stephen  of  Tiptoe,  De  Burg's  old  shepherd, 
told  me  that  much." 

"What  did   Master  say?     Out  with  it,  Thomas." 

"  He  said  nothing.  But,  lass-a-day  !  I  would  n't  be 
Mistress  Chenage  when  he  comes  to  his  tongue." 

"  Had  n't  you  better  ask  Kelder's  man  in  to  a  bite  ? 
He  '11  maybe  know  what  message  he  brought." 

"  He  is  gone.  Master  bid  me  send  him  off,  or  loose 
the  dogs  on  him.  He  went  pretty  quickly.  I  say  it 
is  hard  on  us.  If  ever  a  caller  comes  to  our  gates,  it 
is  '  Be  off !  or  the  dogs  will  know  the  reason  why.'  " 

"  I  'd  like  to  hear  what  's  going  on." 

"  How  was  Master?  " 

"  A  good  bit  foxed.     He  had  drunk  a  bottle." 

In  fact  Chenage  was  so  far  "  foxed  "  that  for  a  mo 
ment  or  two  he  did  not  realize  the  full  importance  of 
Thomas's  message.  But  Anastasia  did.  Before  her  hus 
band  could  collect  his  sottish  senses,  she  had  taken  the 
letter  and  left  the  room.  Then  Chenage  could  but 
make  inquiries,  and  give  the  brutal  and  inhospitable 
order  which  hurried  Luke  Tyson  beyond  his  boundaries. 
The  door  shut,  he  stood  hesitating  whether  to  finish  his 
wine,  or  to  follow  his  wife  and  take  the  letter  from  her. 

Really  he  was  beyond  hesitation  ;  he  had  got  to  a 
point  where  he  was  the  slave  of  the  bottle,  and  he  sat 
down  and  drew  it  closer  to  him.  "  She  has  read  every 
cursed  word  in  it  by  this  time,"  he  muttered  ;  "  and  I 
will  make  her  give  it  to  me  when  I  am  ready  for  it.  I  '11 
wager  a  crown  it  was  from  Nat  Kelder.  I  '11  say  it  was, 
and  swear  it  too.  Oh,  oh,  Mistress  !  wait  till  I  am 
ready  to  read  the  letter  to  you.  'T  will  be  a  pretty  pas 
time  ! "  And  he  refilled  his  glass,  and  drank  to  the 
anticipation. 


OLIVIA   AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED.         269 

In  the  mean  time  Anastasia,  having  possessed  herself 
of  the  letter,  ran  rapidly  with  it  to  her  room.  She 
bolted  the  door,  and  then  stood  listening  with  the  white 
paper  pressed  tightly  against  her  breast.  She  had  the  air 
of  a  woman  prepared  to  defend  it  to  the  last  extremity 
and  then  destroy  it.  But  as  the  moments  flew  by,  and 
there  were  no  blundering,  heavy  footsteps  upon  the 
stairs  or  corridor,  the  hunted  look  died  out  of  her  eyes. 
She  sank  into  a  chair,  pale  and  trembling.  Her  heart 
beat  wildly  with  hope,  and  then  sickened  with  the  fear 
of  disappointment.  She  sat  gazing  at  the  seal,  desiring 
yet  fearing  the  revelation  which  would  follow  the  break 
ing  of  it. 

"If  it  should  be  from  John  !  "  The  writing  was  not 
John's  writing,  and  the  messenger  was  not  John's  mes 
senger  ;  but  "  if  it  should  be  !  "  She  flushed  scarlet  with 
the  hopes  such  a  thought  bred  in  her. 

The  few  weeks  of  married  life  had  made  a  great 
change.  Fear  lurked  in  the  bright  darkness  of  her 
eyes,  and  her  once  gay,  thoughtless  face  had  become 
hard  and  watchful.  Her  sunny  stream  of  song  was 
frozen.  Her  lips  had  grown  unfamiliar  with  smiles,  and 
she  habitually,  often  very  provokingly,  took  refuge  in  a 
stubborn  silence.  Even  her  dress  had  the  pathos  of 
apathetic  beauty.  She  delighted  in  jewels,  yet  in  her 
present  case  disdained  to  wear  them.  Her  brocades 
and  ribbons  and  laces  were  out  of  tone  with  her  mood 
and  surroundings;  she  could  no  more  adorn  herself 
in  them  than  she  could  touch  the  lute  or  sing  her  old, 
merry  ballads. 

This  night  her  dress  was  of  white  flax  cloth,  falling 
away  from  her  throat  and  elbows  in  cascades  of  lace ; 
and  some  remnant  of  inextinguishable  vanity  had  made 
her  put  clove  carnations  in  her  bosom.  But  the  gown 


2/0  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

was  crumpled,  and  it  was  not  as  becoming  to  her  as  the 
vivid  colours  she  had  been  accustomed  to  wear.  She 
was  a  tropical  bird  in  the  plumage  of  a  sparrow. 

With  the  letter  in  her  hand,  and  her  dark  curling  hair 
falling  over  her  white  throat  and  her  white  garment,  she 
sat  still  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  suddenly,  with  a 
swift  movement,  broke  the  seal  and  spread  the  open 
paper  before  her.  It  contained  so  few  lines  that  its 
address,  "To  Mistress  Chenage,"  and  its  superscription 
of  "  Odinel  Kelder,"  met  her  eyes  at  the  same  moment. 

To    MISTRESS    CHENAGE,  —  Your    father,   my    cousin, 
Stephen  de  Burg,  is  very  ill.     I  thought  you  might  like  to 
go  to  him  at  once.     My  son  Nathaniel  left  for  Appleby  this 
morning.     He  will  care  for  him  in  the  mean  time. 
With  respect  and  well-wishing,  your  servant, 

ODINEL  KELDER. 

That  was  the  burden  of  it,  and  oh,  how  heavy  a 
burden  !  Anastasia  loved  her  father  with  her  whole 
heart.  She  felt  as  if  the  wings  of  a  dove  would  be  too 
slow  to  carry  her  to  his  sick-bed.  "  My  father  !  my 
father  ! "  she  murmured  as  she  walked  restlessly,  miser 
ably,  about  the  room,  uncertainly  planning,  because 
doubtful  of  all  realization  of  her  plans.  Her  head 
ached  and  throbbed ;  she  was  soon  conquered  by  sheer 
physical  suffering.  It  would  be  impossible  to  discuss 
the  circumstance  with  Chenage  until  the  morning,  and 
she  resolved  to  seek  in  sleep  oblivion  from  her  pain  and 
sorrow. 

Mechanically,  from  mere  force  of  habit,  she  went  to 
her  mirror,  and  began  to  remove  her  dress  before  it. 
She  looked  with  a  sad  pity  at  her  wan  face,  and  then 
in  a  moment  her  whole  expression  changed.  She  had 
bared  her  arm  and  neck,  and  on  the  white  flesh  there 


OLIVIA  AND  ANASTASIA    WANTED. 

were  bruises  from  a  brutal  hand.  She  looked  steadily 
at  them ;  she  counted  every  mark ;  she  touched  the 
wounded  flesh  with  a  tender  hand ;  and  before  she  was 
aware,  tears  —  a  slow,  heavy  rain  of  tears  —  fell  in  pity 
for  her  hard  fate.  When  we  weep  for  ourselves,  we  find 
either  self-evolved  consolation,  or  else  the  idea  of  retri 
bution  grows  with  magical  swiftness  under  that  bitter 
rain.  Retribution  !  it  was  the  one  idea  which  Anastasia 
nourished.  Everything  was  made  to  feed  it.  She  kept 
a  strict  account  against  Roger  Chenage.  Scorn,  insult, 
cruelty,  wrong,  —  every  manifestation  of  them  was  clear 
in  her  memory.  One  event  was  to  balance  all,  — 
one  'event  for  which  she  eagerly  longed  and  watched. 
"When  John  comes!"  —  these  three  words  were  her 
solace  for  every  indignity. 

And  John  was  coming  quickly ;  of  that  she  was  un 
questionably,  indisputably  convinced.  The  whistle  of 
the  winds  in  his  sails,  the  rattle  of  the  cordage,  the 
hoarse  cries  of  the  sailors,  —  she  heard  them  as  she  lay 
dreaming  by  day  and  night;  and  though  generally  the 
prophesying  cards  lay  with  "delay"  and  "disappoint 
ment,"  she  trusted  to  the  divination  of  her  heart. 

So,  whether  it  was  the  hand  or  the  tongue  that  struck 
her,  she  possessed  her  soul  in  such  a  strange  silence  as 
would  have  rendered  any  man  less  stupid  than  Chenage 
watchful  and  suspicious.  He  made  her  delicate  flesh 
wince  with  shameful  pain  and  her  hot  blood  boil  with 
passion ;  but  she  pacified  the  raging  soul  within  her  by 
a  whisper  pregnant  with  vengeful  retribution,  —  "  When 
John  conies  !" 


XIV. 
JOHN  RECKONS  WITH  CHENAGE. 

"  In  the  night  time  visited, 
And  seeing  with  close-shut  eyes  the  day  unborn." 

"  For  she  a  woman,  womanlike  in  mind, 
Not  of  man's  strength,  alone,  without  a  sword, 
She  hath  destroyed  me." 

"  This  shall  be  thy  lot, 
My  stern  Avenger  dwelling  with  thee  still." 

"  What  waters  of  the  Don  will  cleanse  me  ?  Or  what  sea  of  Asoph  with 
its  barbarous  waters  bending  over  the  Black  Sea  ?  Not  Neptune  himself, 
with  his  multitudinous  waters,  will  be  able  to  expiate  such  wickedness." 

A  NASTASIA  had  that  night  a  singular  experience. 
**•  A  few  times  in  her  life  she  had  heard  her  father 
speak  of  a  peculiar  dream  which  at  critical  epochs  in 
their  fortunes  visited  all  of  the  De  Burg  family.  It 
varied  as  to  its  circumstances,  but  never  as  to  its  con 
trolling  demon,  and  she  had  heard  this  spirit  of  the 
dream  so  vividly  and  so  recently  described  that  she  was 
conscious  of  a  kind  of  recognition  when  she  saw  him. 

For,  the  week  before  her  miserable  wedding,  her 
father  met  this  spirit  of  his  house  in  that  dim  frontier 
of  Eternity  which  we  call  Dreamland  ;  and  so  terrible 
had  been  the  meeting,  that  in  the  cold,  gray  glimmer 
which  precedes  dawning  he  came  to  her  for  company, 
showing  a  face  as  wan  as  a  spectre.  And  as  he  flung 
open  the  casement  and  thrust  his  dark  head  into  the 
still  mysterious  day,  she  had  shivered  with  an  unknown 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHENAGE.  2?$ 

fear,  —  sympathetic,  half  divining,  yet  dumb  either  for 
question  or  for  comfort. 

She  recalled  his  imperative  knock  at  her  door,  his 
eager  request  to  be  admitted,  his  greed  for  light  and 
air,  the  troubled  terror  in  his  eyes,  the  pallor  of  the 
unborn  day  upon  the  pallor  of  his  face,  the  long,  sad  sigh 
with  which  he  threw  himself  into  the  chair,  the  unnatural 
voice  in  which  he  whispered  her  name. 

He  had  said  nothing  more  at  the  time,  but,  lost  in 
thought,  seemed  to  be  content  to  feel  his  daughter's 
presence,  to  hear  her  commonplace  observations,  and 
to  watch  her  combing  and  brushing  her  long  black  hair 
before  the  mirror.  There  was  something  so  very  mortal 
and  fleshly  about  Anastasia  that  he  got  rid  of  the  super 
natural  as  he  watched  and  listened  to  her ;  so  that,  when 
the  sun  touched  the  horizon,  he  felt  able  to  fling  off  the 
dread  and  awe  which  had  overwhelmed  him. 

She  did  not  name  the  circumstance  at  breakfast,  but 
when  the  meal  was  over  De  Burg  took  her  to  the  ter 
race,  where  there  was  a  great  sun-dial  with  a  stone  seat 
around  it,  and  he  made  her  sit  by  his  side.  In  the 
broad  dayshine  it  was  possible  to  speak  of  what  she 
ought  perhaps  to  hear. 

"  You  will  see  him  for  yourself  some  day,  Asia.  He 
will  come  as  your  friend  or  your  foe.  He  will  make 
you  taste  the  savour  of  death  in  life,  or  else  convey  by 
secretest  means  the  assurance  of  whatever  you  desire. 
Ah,  me  !  the  fear  of  him  comes  thundering  back,  and 
I  am  tormented  with  cruel  expectation." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  My  father  believed  him  to  be  Glaive  de  Burg,  who 
burned  the  Saxons  out  of  Shoreham  and  built  there  a 
castle  whose  walls  still  stand.  'T  is  said  he  was  partner 
in  all  King  John's  treachery  to  his  brother  Richard,  and 

18 


2/4  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

that  Glaive  de  Burg  betrayed  both  brothers  to  each 
other.  One  day  he  was  arrested  for  high  treason,  and 
he  knew  his  hour  had  come.  As  he  crossed  the  court 
yard  of  the  castle,  the  mailed  guards  being  on  each  side 
of  him,  he  flung  the  great  key  of  his  home  backward,  and 
bid  his  demon  '  keep  it  well  until  he  came  again.'  He 
was  beheaded  within  a  week,  and  came  no  more  to 
Shoreham.  But  the  castle  was  strangely  troubled,  and 
the  De  Burgs  dwelt  hardly  there  until  King  Henry  VIII. 
gave  them  this  priory.  Then  they  deserted  Shoreham, 
and  it  fell  into  decay.  But  the  man  with  the  key  grows 
no  older.  As  my  fathers  saw  him  I  see  him.  This 
morning  he  presaged  great  trouble  to  me.  Lowering 
and  black  was  his  face,  and  his  voice  full  of  terror ;  and 
I  fear  death,  Asia,  knowing  well  what  powers  there  be 
behind  it." 

"  But  he  is  not  al\vays  terrible,  and  I  will  hope  that  he 
may  be  so  far  touched  by  my  fidelity  to  the  De  Burgs, 
and  by  my  helplessness  against  such  as  would  hurt  me, 
as  to  fight  my  battles.  And  surely,  if  I  see  him,  Father, 
I  will  not  fear  to  ask  that  all  evil  designed  you  may  be 
shifted  to  your  enemies." 

And  yet  when  the  mysterious  adherent  did  visit  her 
she  was  conscious  only  of  an  intensely  personal  instruc 
tion  which  she  could  not  translate  into  human  language, 
—  so  personal,  indeed,  that  she  was  inclined  jealously  to 
keep  to  herself  all  that  she  had  supernaturally  learned. 

From  this  informed  sleep  she  awakened  with  a  sudden 
sense  of  life.  It  was  as  if  the  demon  had  said  :  "  That 
is  all.  Go  !  "  She  opened  her  eyes  wide,  there  was  a 
moment  of  blank,  then  the  whole  communication  flashed 
upon  her  mind,  and  brought  with  it  a  feeling  of  strength 
and  light-heartedness  which  not  even  her  father's  criti 
cal  condition  could  essentially  impair.  For  if  Nathaniel 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHEN  AGE.  2?$ 

Kelder  had  gone  to  Appleby  she  knew  he  would  do  all 
that  was  possible  for  the  sick  man.  "  Pious  people  are  a 
comfort  sometimes,"  she  thought,  "and  Cousin  Nat's  con 
science  will  require  him  to  be  extra  kind  to  his  enemy." 

She  dressed  herself  with  some  care,  and  ate  her  break 
fast  alone  with  a  very  good  appetite,  Chenage  being  still 
in  the  torpor  of  alcoholic  sleep.  Then,  as  the  morning  was 
warm  and  fine  and  the  west  wind  brought  on  it  delicious 
odours  from  the  lavender  beds  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
garden,  she  asked  for  scissors  and  a  basket. 

"  The  heads  are  full  ripe,  Gilbert,"  she  said ;  "  I  will 
go  and  cut  them.  When  the  master  is  ready  for  break 
fast  let  me  know." 

Gilbert  watched  her  a  moment  going  through  the 
garden,  and  an  unusual  feeling  of  pity  came  into  his 
heart.  "  She  be  pretty  and  good-natured,  bless  her,  — 
and  my  word  but  she  will  catch  it  anon."  Then  he  went 
into  the  kitchen  to  eat  his  own  meal,  and  found  such 
sentiments  little  approved.  The  women  all  stood  by 
Master,  and  the  inferior  men-servants  all  had  personal 
reasons  for  standing  by  the  women. 

But  Anastasia  was  not  thinking  of  their  ill-will,  though 
she  was  quite  aware  of  it.  That  wondrous  man  of  the 
dream,  and  the  mystery  and  promise  of  his  unexplain- 
able  revelation  filled  her  mind  with  a  vague  but  positive 
sense  of  coming  triumph  over  all  her  enemies.  She 
went  straight  to  the  lavender  beds  and  cut  the  small 
basket  full.  As  she  straightened  herself,  her  eyes  met 
two  other  eyes.  They  were  looking  at  her  with  such  an 
intensity  of  regard  as  may  have  compelled  her  attention. 
Before  she  could  move  or  speak  a  hand  parted  the  hazel- 
boughs,  a  brown  hand  covered  with  rings,  and  then  An 
astasia  laughed  lowly  and  went  toward  the  beckoning 
fingers. 


2/6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"Oh,  Pastro  !  is  it  you  at  last?" 

"  It  is  Pastro,  my  lady.  The  Captain  wants  your 
orders." 

"  Go  and  tell  him  that  I  am  being  slowly  killed. 
Chenage  flogs  me  like  a  dog." 

"The  great  devil !  " 

"  To-day  Chenage  goes  to  Kendal  market.  Tell  Cap 
tain  John  to  come,  '  as  from  the  king,'  about  one  o'clock. 
I  will  see  him,  if  I  die  for  it.  Pastro,  look  here  !  "  and 
she  pushed  aside  her  handkerchief  and  showed  a  livid 
mark  across  her  shoulders.  "  He  did  that  yesterday. 
Go  and  tell  Captain  John  what  you  have  seen,  what  I 
say." 

"  I  will  tell,  fear  not." 

"  Remember,  one  o'clock  !  Pray  God  he  kill  me  not 
before  help  comes  !  Help  will  come?  " 

He  nodded  decisively,  and  the  mist  of  pity  in  his 
black,  piercing  eyes  told  her  that  she  had  a  proper 
messenger.  She  waited  a  moment  until  the  rustling 
among  the  hazel-bushes  ceased,  then  with  her  basket 
of  lavender  she  turned  toward  the  house.  In  a  few 
moments  she  saw  Gilbert  at  the  open  door  looking  to 
ward  her.  Chenage,  then,  was  at  breakfast ;  and  she 
hasted,  lest  her  delay  should  add  to  his  usual  irritation. 

She  was  so  nervous  that  she  began  to  sing,  —  a  pitiful 
little  murmur,  the  thinnest  echo  of  her  former  clear,  high 
trilling;  that  kind  of  singing  in  which  trembling  souls 
hide,  or  try  to  hide,  their  crying.  Chenage  looked  at 
her,  and  the  poor  pretence  froze  upon  her  lips.  How 
ever,  she  noticed  instantly  that  he  wore  the  suit  in  which 
he  usually  rode  to  Kendal,  and  the  circumstance  gave 
her  comfort.  It  was  the  sign  and  promise  of  all  she 
wished.  Chenage  had  dressed  himself  for  his  evil 
destiny. 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHENAGE. 

"  Well,  Mistress,  gadding  about,  as  usual." 

"  I  have  been  cutting  the  lavender." 

"  Gilbert,  fling  that  high-smelling  stuff  away  !  " 

She  let  the  man  take  the  basket  without  a  word, 
there  was  a  look  in  her  eyes  which  maddened  Chenage 
beyond  words. 

"  Where  is  the  letter  you  got  last  night  ?  " 

She  laid  it  at  his  side. 

"Old  Kelder  !    Lies  !   Where  is  Nat  Kelder's  letter?" 

"  I  had  no  letter  from  Nat  Kelder." 

"  You  had." 

"  I  had  not.  You  see  my  father  is  dying.  I  want  to 
go  to  him." 

"  You  want  to  go  to  Nat  Kelder.  He  is  in  Appleby. 
You  shall  not  go  within  a  hundred  miles  of  him." 

"What  do  I  care  for  Nat  Kelder?  It  is  my  father 
I  —  " 

"  *  Ah,  me  !  I  would  I  had  a  Puritan  lover  !  How  I 
should  adore  one  !  How  becoming  is  their  dress  !  How 
refined  and  gentle  their  manners  !  Loving  is  their  only 
vice,  and  I  vow  they  love  to  perfection  !  Ah,  me  !  I 
would  I  had  a  Puritan  lover  ! '  "  So,  with  black,  drawn 
brows  and  angry  mimicry,  he  mocked  her  with  the  idle 
words  she  had  taught  him. 

"  I  want  to  go  to  my  dying  father." 

"  You  want  to  go  to  Nat  Kelder.  You  are  not  going 
to  Appleby  now ;  no,  nor  at  any  other  time." 

"  Are  you  above  the  law  ?  I  have  been  summoned 
there ;  and  I  swear  I  will  go  to  my  father." 

"  You  will  go  to  bed  and  stay  there.  When  I  am  in 
Kendal  I  shall  tell  Dr.  Kirby  to  be  here  to-morrow. 
Kirby  will  swear  you  are  ill,  or  mad,  if  I  tell  him  to. 
And,  by  Heaven  !  I  will  make  you  mad  if  you  are  any 
saner  than  suits  my  purpose." 


2/8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

As  he  spoke  he  grasped  her  arm.  And  he  had  a  cruel 
grip ;  a  vise  of  iron  would  hardly  have  pressed  her  flesh 
more  torturingly. 

"  Let  me  go,  Roger,  please.  You  hurt  me,  you  make 
me  sick.  Pity  —  pity  —  pity  !  " 

To  see  the  colour  leave  her  cheeks  and  mortal  terror 
leap  into  her  eyes,  to  see  her  red  lips  turn  ashy  and  her 
eyelids  droop  and  quiver,  gave  him  a  fierce  joy.  The 
brutal  fingers  closed  tighter  :  he  was  mocking  her  about 
Nat  Kelder,  and  forgot  himself  until  he  suddenly  knew 
that  he  held  a  dead  weight  in  that  merciless  grip.  For 
a  moment  he  was  terrified.  He  called  the  women,  and 
they  loosed  her  dress  and  threw  cold  water  over  her 
face ;  but  with  the  return  of  life  he  experienced  an  excess 
of  anger  against  her.  She  began  to  sob  as  consciousness 
came  back,  and  he  sent  every  one  away  and  sat  down 
beside  her. 

"  Mistress,"  he  said,  "  it  will  be  more  for  your  wel 
fare  to  listen  to  me  than  to  cry  for  yourself.  I  am 
going  to  Kendal.  Ask  Audrey  to  show  you  the  room  in 
the  garret  of  which  she  keeps  the  key.  It  has  a  story, 
and  she  may  tell  it  to  you.  My  grandmother,  Lady 
Cecilia  Chenage,  lived  eleven  years  in  that  room.  There 
is  an  iron  staple  in  the  wall,  and  an  iron  chain  and 
bracelet  on  the  floor.  My  grandfather  kept  the  key  of 
that  bracelet.  Lady  Chenage  was  subject  to  faintings 
and  cryings;  she  had  had  many  servants  as  well  as 
my  grandfather,  and  she  made  his  life  uncomfortable. 
She  became  mad.  Do  you  understand  ?  Faith,  if  you 
do  not,  you  have  less  sense  than  will  serve  your 
turn." 

Then  he  went  away,  leaving  the  terror-stricken  woman 
dumb  with  the  horror  of  her  situation.  She  lay  still  until 
she  heard  the  clatter  of  his  horse  on  the  paved  yard,  and 


JOHN  RECKONS    WITH  CHENAGE.  279 

knew  by  the  whining  of  the  dogs  and  the  clash  of  the 
iron  gates  that  he  was  on  the  high  road  to  Kendal. 

It  was  then  about  ten  o'clock,  and  if  John  came  there 
were  still  three  hours  to  be  got  over.  If  they  should 
carry  her  to  that  dreadful  room  before  John  came  !  If 
John  should  not  come  !  She  tried  to  think  what  she 
must  do,  and  the  outlook  appalled  her.  Her  father  was 
in  prison,  perhaps  dying ;  he  could  not  help  her.  The 
Bellinghams  had  cast  her  off  since  that  affair  of  Roger 
Prideaux.  Mistress  Cecil,  the  Le  Tails,  the  Sandersons, 
the  Paleys,  none  of  them  had  the  power,  even  if  they  had 
the  will,  to  help  her.  The  Kelders  ?  Yes,  she  believed  the 
Baron  would  shield  her  at  any  risk.  But  how  could  she 
reach  him?  The  servants  watched  the  house  by  day,  the 
dogs  would  not  spare  her  by  night.  It  was  impossible 
for  her  to  walk  to  Kelderby ;  under  what  pretence  could 
she  get  a  carriage,  or  even  a  horse,  to  take  her  there  ? 

In  a  hopeless  and  miserable  round  of  revengeful  cares 
and  sullen  sorrows  she  passed  a  couple  of  hours.  Several 
times  Audrey  urged  her  to  "  go  and  lie  down  and  get  a 
bit  of  sleep."  But  she  felt  as  if  nothing  could  induce 
her  to  go  upstairs  again,  unless  John's  coming  should 
remove  the  hand  of  terror.  Soon  after  the  noon  hour 
she  heard  the  gallop  of  a  horse  and  the  slow  movement 
of  a  man  leaving  his  dinner  to  answer  the  unexpected 
visitor. 

She  stood  breathless,  with  the  door  ajar,  listening.  It 
was  an  hour  sooner  than  she  expected  her  brother,  but 
she  could  understand  how  hard  it  would  be  for  John  to 
wait  after  he  received  the  message  sent  by  Pastro.  The 
imperative  knock  at  the  front  door  was  repeated  twice 
before  Thomas  Hodges  reached  it.  It  was  a  moment 
of  supreme  anxiety.  She  hardly  breathed  until  she 
heard  the  voice,  John's  voice,  ask  for  Chenage.  There 


280  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

was  the  slow,  expected  reply,  then  some  impetuous 
talking,  and  Hodges  followed  by  John  came  into  the 
parlour.  He  was  perfectly  disguised  in  a  suit  of  almost 
Puritanical  gravity. 

The  eyes  of  the  brother  and  sister  met.  "  Madam," 
said  John,  "  here  is  the  king's  seal  and  authority  for  my 
intrusion.  As  I  cannot  see  your  husband,  permit  me  to 
sit  at  this  table  and  write  my  instructions."  He  spread 
out  a  sheet  of  parchment  with  a  great  seal  and  the  signa 
ture  of  "  Carolus  Rex  "  attached  to  it.  Anastasia  played 
her  part  perfectly.  She  called  in  Gilbert  and  bid  him 
look  at  the  paper,  and  Gilbert  bowed  down  to  the  sign 
and  seal  of  royalty.  In  a  whispered  consultation  with 
Anastasia  he  thought  that  the  bearer  of  so  august  a 
paper  should  have  all  conveniences,  and  he  himself  pro 
posed  to  spread  refreshments  for  him  in  the  best  dining- 
parlour. 

"  I  shall  have  to  ask  you,  Madam,  to  give  me  your  at 
tention,  as  these  instructions  are  in  cipher,  and  must  be 
explained  to  you." 

With  affected  reluctance  Anastasia  remained,  and  at 
length  the  door  was  shut  and  she  stood  alone  with  her 
avenger.  They  wasted  no  time.  She  told  her  story  in 
low,  passionate  words ;  she  showed  her  wounds  and  her 
bruises ;  she  revealed  the  threat  made  to  her  that  morn 
ing,  and  as  she  spoke  her  eyes  were  full  of  such  mortal 
terror  that  John  saw  in  them  the  bare  garret  room  with  its 
iron  chain  and  bracelet. 

He  listened  with  that  quiet  fury  which  intends  nothing 
less  than  the  direst  vengeance.  His  pretty  sister  who 
had  braved  so  much  for  him  !  What  would  he  not  do 
for  her?  As  she  made  her  mournful  complaint  his  face 
grew  blacker  and  blacker,  and  Anastasia  knew  that  Mas 
ter  Chenage  would  go  mad  before  she  did. 


JOHN  RECKONS    WITH  CHEN  AGE.  28 1 

"What  time  does  Chenage  leave  Kendal?" 

"  Between  ten  and  eleven  to-night." 

"Will  he  have  any  one  with  him?  " 

"  He  may  have  Squire  Bevil,  but  only  for  two  miles. 
Bevil  Hall  is  about  two  miles  out  of  Kendal." 

"Will  the  brute  be  sober? " 

"  So  sober  as  to  keep  his  seat.  His  horse  knows  its 
master  and  the  way  home." 

"  He  will  never  bring  his  master  home  again." 

"Are  you  going  to  kill  him?  " 

"  Kill  him  ?  Not  yet.  Oh,  no  !  He  shall  long  for 
death  a  thousand  times  more  than  he  ever  longed  for 
you.  Kill  him  ?  Not  until  he  has  paid  for  every  blow 
he  has  given  you.  Oh,  I  will  kill  him  by  inches  as  he 
would  have  killed  you  in  that  living  grave  upstairs.  He 
shall  die  daily,  —  by  hours  and  minutes." 

"  I  have  not  told  you  all  yet.  He  promised  Father 
^"200  to  go  to  the  king,  and  then  he  informed  against 
him.  'Twas  his  hope  that  father  would  be  arrested 
before  the  money  was  paid." 

"  Oh-h-h  !  That  accounts  for  what  I  saw  at  De  Burg 
as  I  passed.  Where  is  Father?" 

"  In  Appleby  common  jail." 

He  drew  his  lips  tight,  and  an  indefinable  sound  es 
caped  them.  It  was  the  utterance  of  many  feelings,  but 
anger  was  the  predominating  one. 

"  I  can  never  believe  that  you  will  forget  this,  John." 

"  You  must  needs  know  better.  I  shall  think  on  it,  — 
and  he  will  pay  for  it.  Ha,  ha  !  ha,  ha  !  "  Anastasia 
looking  into  John's  face  caught  something  of  the  passions 
which  infused  and  infuriated  it.  Her  glinting  eyes  had 
the  fire  of  vengeance  in  them.  Her  lips  wore  the  cruel 
smile  of  inexorable  and  pitiless  retaliation. 

"  Shall  I  see  you  again,  John  ?  " 


282  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Not  at  this  time.  I  shall  be  pleasantly  engaged  with 
Master  Roger  Chenage.  But  Pastro  will  bring  you  a 
comfortable  word.  Get  ready  for  Appleby  if  you  wish 
to  go,  and  trouble  your  heart  no  more  about  a  dead 
man." 

"  Chenage  is  —  " 

"  Chenage  was,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned." 

"  John,  I  had  the  dream  last  night." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  doing  business.     Was  he  favourable  ?  " 

"  He  touched  my  wedding-ring,  and  it  fell  at  my  feet 
broken  in  two.  He  made  my  heart  light  as  a  bird  on 
the  topmost  branch.  I  have  assurances. .  If  I  could  find 
words  I  might  tell  you  more." 

"  You  have  said  enough.  I  am  invincible.  My  own 
sister,  my  only  true  friend,  there  are  footsteps  !  " 

He  stood  up,  kissed  her  with  hearty  affection,  and  then 
faced  the  door  with  a  haughty  insolence  that  made  Gil 
bert  cringe  and  tremble  before  him. 

"  There  is  food  and  wine  in  the  next  room,  if  it  please 
your  lordship  —  your  grace  —  your  highness  —  to  eat 
and  drink." 

"  Bring  me  wax  and  a  candle." 

There  were  candles  and  wax  in  the  room,  and  Anastasia 
watched  with  many  queer  thoughts  the  old  man's  trem 
bling  desire  to  serve.  John  sealed  elaborately  a  sheet  of 
paper,  and  gave  it  to  Anastasia  with  many  exact  orders 
for  its  safe  delivery  to  Chenage.  "  Keep  it  in  your 
breast,  Madam,"  he  said ;  "  things  of  great  importance 
to  the  king  and  to  the  future  Earl  of  Chenage  are  secured 
by  it." 

Anastasia  bowed  low,  but  even  in  that  moment,  when 
her  existence  was  held  in  suspense  and  tragical  danger, 
s*he  could  not  avoid  giving  her  brother  a  glance  from  be 
neath  her  level  brows  which  might  have  roused  a  fatal 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHEN  AGE.  283 

suspicion  even  in  Gilbert's  stupid  mind  if  he  had  not 
been  so  lavishly  impressed  by  John's  moods  and  actions 
that  he  dared  not  raise  his  eyes.  And  he  was  further  im 
pressed  by  the  fact  that  John  refused  all  refreshment,  his 
care  being  only  to  get  forward  on  his  journey  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

"  Mistress  !  Mistress  !  "  —  and  Gilbert  sank  his  voice 
to  a  whisper,  —  "  't  is  the  king  himself,  I  '11  warrant.  He 
be  here  looking  after  his  own  business,  —  and  need  for 
him  to  do  so ;  and  a  grander  man  I  never  saw.  I  could 
fairly  have  knelt  down  and  kissed  his  feet." 

Anastasia  gladly  humoured  the  idea.  She  went  for  a 
likeness  of  the  exiled  monarch,  and  Gilbert  was  certain 
of  the  identity  of  the  two  men.  What  an  event  it  was  for 
Chenage  !  The  fact  that  the  whole  household  was  en 
joined  to  secrecy  gave  the  news  something  of  the  delight 
ful  flavour  of  stolen  fruit.  In  the  kitchen  there  was  a 
grand  feast  prepared,  and  over  it  the  stranger  was 
discussed. 

Even  "  the  mistress  "  obtained  a  reflected  respect.  She 
was  the  keeper  of  a  paper  which  was  to  make  master 
Earl  of  Chenage.  Gjlbert  had  heard  him  say  so,  and 
every  man-servant  and  woman-servant  had  their  own 
hopes  in  the  realization  of  such  dignity.  These  hopes 
kept  them  in  delightful  conversation  and  in  a  constant 
appetite  for  something  to  eat  or  drink  until  the  night  was 
far  advanced. 

Anastasia  understood  the  revolution  in  feeling,  and  she 
smiled  complacently.  She  was  no  longer  in  mortal  ter 
ror.  She  felt  that  John  had  succeeded  in  imparting  to 
her  an  importance  which  would  secure  her  safety  until  he 
had  made  her  again  mistress  of  her  destiny.  But  she 
took  the  precaution  to  show  herself  to  some  one  of  the 
household  every  hour  of  the  day.  If  there  was  any  sus- 


284  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

picion,  she  was  determined  to  be  beyond  it.  At  eleven 
o'clock  she  consulted  Gilbert  about  his  master's  return. 
She  did  not  "  wish  to  sleep  until  she  was  clear  of  the 
charge  of  the  paper."  Gilbert  thought  she  ought  not  to 
do  so.  He  was  sure  master  would  be  home  anon.  Thus 
another  hour  passed,  —  two,  three  hours,  —  and  the 
whole  household  being  exhausted  with  their  great  ex 
pectations,  it  was  finally  concluded  that  Master  had 
stayed  the  night  with  Squire  Bevil. 

"Or  he  may  have  met  the  stranger,"  said  Anastasia, 
with  an  air  of  mystery  and  subdued  enjoyment. 

This  suggestion  was  so  excellent  that  it  supplied  a  new 
interest  to  the  exhausted  theme.  The  servants  resolved 
to  sit  another  hour,  and  Anastasia  bid  them  good-night 
with  her  sweetest  smile.  "  I  think,"  she  said,  "  we  have 
heard  good  news  to-day,  —  good  news  both  for  England 
and  Chenage."  The  men  gave  a  little  cheer.  The 
women  dropped  courtesies.  They  looked  at  her  with  a 
far  more  gracious  interest  than  they  had  given  that  night 
on  which  she  entered  Chenage  as  a  bride.  They  inferred 
from  her  parting  speech  that  the  king  was  coming  back, 
and  also  that  she  had  some  surety  .of  becoming  Countess 
Chenage.  And  they  were  all  shrewd  enough  to  know 
that  the  king's  return  would  restore  De  Burg  to  his  es 
tate,  and  thus  give  to  the  future  countess  a  position  and 
a  protector  which  even  Chenage  would  not  dare  assail. 

All  their  thoughts  and  selfish  plans  were  clear  to  An 
astasia,  and  as  soon  as  she  was  within  her  room  she 
laughed  softly  but  immoderately  at  them.  She  had  not 
been  mentally  idle,  for  she  was  aware  that  her  position 
was  not  yet  in  her  own  control.  She  desired  most  of  all 
things  to  go  to  her  father,  but  this  step  she  could  not  take 
while  her  husband's  fate  was  uncertain.  She  must  re 
main  at  Chenage  until  public  opinion  had  come  to  some 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHENAGE.  285 

decision  on  the  matter.  But  she  felt  already  the  lifting 
of  the  incubus.  Her  flagging  spirit,  that  ever  since  her 
marriage  had  flown  under  its  natural  pitch,  as  if  it  was  a 
body  in  a  body  and  not  a  mounting  essence,  resumed  its 
old  daring,  its  pushing  inquisitiveness  concerning  wnat- 
ever  affected  its  happiness. 

As  soon  as  she  was  alone  she  threw  aside  every  re 
straint  of  mood  and  clothing.  She  was  too  excited  to 
sleep ;  her  mind  was  busy  with  probabilities,  and  she 
looked  in  vain  for  anything  fixed  to  rest  it  upon.  Un 
derlying  all  her  thoughts  was  the  thought  of  her  father, 
All  that  he  had  suffered,  all  that  he  was  suffering,  she  laid 
to  the  charge  of  Chenage.  He  had  denied  this  treach 
ery,  —  denied  upon  his  honour,  —  but  Anastasia  believed 
him  not;  and  the  contemplation  of  her  dying  father 
made  her  contemplate  the  probable  condition  of  Chenage 
with  satisfaction. 

She  recalled  one  by  one  his  various  acts  of  petty 
tyranny ;  she  looked  again  at  the  marks  which  his  cruel 
fingers  had  left ;  she  shuddered  at  the  threat  which  led 
her  memory  to  that  chamber  of  wrong  and  misery  which 
might  have  become  her  grave.  The  thought  of  the  poor 
lady  who  perished  there  filled  her  eyes  with  tears.  The 
thought  of  Audrey,  who  had  probably  assisted  at  that 
burial  of  the  living,  filled  her  with  horror  and  with  strange 
dreams  of  retribution. 

She  heard  the  clock  strike  three,  and  she  stood  up  to 
listen  to  each  reverberation.  John  had  told  her  that  at 
three  o'clock  the  tide  would  serve  his  purpose,  and  Roger 
Chenage  would  begin  in  reality  his  voyage  to  eternity. 
John's  last  words  to  her  had  been,  "  At  three  o'clock  he 
will  be  dead  to  you."  Three  had  struck.  She  was  free. 
She  took  a  long  breath ;  she  stretched  outward  and  up 
ward  her  arms.  She  felt  no  motion  of  pity.  She  asked 


286  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

herself  why  she  should  pity  him.  "  He  never  knew  pity 
for  any  one,  not  even  for  the  poor  lady  who  could  hardly 
have  wronged  him  in  any  way. 

"  Whatever  John  does  to  him,  he  deserves  it ;  I  swear 
he  does.  I  hope  John  will  tell  him  that  I  planned  the 
whole  affair.  I  do  not  think  that  he  will  sleep  much 
to-night ;  and  on  whom  will  he  spend  his  temper  to 
morrow  morning?  Not  on  me.  Will  he  try  it  on 
John  ?  Ha,  ha  !  his  courage  flies  not  so  high.  A  weak 
woman,  whom  the  law  had  tied  hands  and  feet  ready 
for  him,  makes  the  pastime  he  prefers.  I  wonder  if  by 
this  time  John  has  cut  my  bonds.  I  think  he  has ;  I 
believe  it.  I  am  free  —  free  —  free  —  free!"  She 
dropped  suddenly  asleep  with  the  word  parting  her  lips. 

She  was  awakened  by  a  loud  and  imperative  knock 
at  her  chamber  door,  and  the  sound  of  a  human  voice 
full  of  wonder  and  fear.  "  Mistress,  Mistress  !  open, 
an  it  please  you,  Mistress ;  such  a  thing  has  happened  ! 
We  don't  know  what  to  make  of  such  a  thing." 

"What  is  the  matter,  Nan?" 

"  We  don't  know  what,  Mistress.  The  master's  horse 
is  come  home  alone.  Master  is  n't  on  him.  A  thing 
like  that  never  happened  before.  It  has  given  us  all 
such  a  feel,  you  can't  think,  Mistress." 

In  her  white  night  garment  and  her  bare  feet  she 
stood  looking  at  the  woman.  Her  long  black  hair  fell 
around  her  face  and  shoulders,  and  she  lifted  her  hands 
and  pushed  the  froward  curls  behind  her  ears.  In  the 
respite  this  action  gave  her,  she  tried  to  decide  upon 
the  proper  rdle  to  play. 

"  Mercy  on  us,  Nan  !     Send  Gilbert  to  me  at  once  !  " 

Unconsciously  she  spoke  in  her  old  imperative  man 
ner;  and  the  woman  resented  its  assumption,  even  in 
the  midst  of  her  excitement. 


JOHN  RECKONS    WITH  CHEN  AGE  287 

"  Gilbert,  you  are  to  go  to  the  mistress,  and  to  go 
to  her  at  once.  She  is  in  a  very  high  way  this  morning. 
I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  her.  I  walked  myself 
off  middling  quick." 

After  such  a  message  Gilbert  thought  his  honour  de 
manded  an  extra  delay ;  and  before  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  go  to  Anastasia,  she  had  hurriedly  dressed 
herself  and  was  with  him.  Suddenly  she  opened  the 
great  oak  door  which  shut  off  the  kitchen,  and  stood 
gazing  at  its  occupants  from  the  topmost  of  the  short 
flight  of  steps  by  which  it  was  reached.  The  gloom  and 
shadow  of  the  long  passage  was  behind  her  ;  the  morning 
light  from  the  wide  kitchen  windows  shone  in  her  face, 
and  turned  the  Indian  calico  she  wore  into  a  garment 
of  strange  beauty  and  brilliancy ;  for  its  "  pines "  full 
of  gorgeous  colouring  caught  the  August  sunshine,  and 
made  around  her  a  haze  of  glowing  reflections. 

«  Gilbert ! " 

Gilbert  turned  and  looked  at  his  mistress,  and  in  that 
first  glance  abandoned  all  his  dreams  of  authority  over 
her.  Anastasia  had  regained  herself.  Her  beauty  was 
a  thing  to  wonder  at,  Not  a  servant  of  them  had  ever 
before  seen  her  face  as  they  saw  it  then,  with  the  eyes 
flashing  fire  and  the  cheeks  blazing  like  carnations,  and 
the  long  curling  veil  of  her  dark  hair  flung  backward  in 
that  studied  confusion  which  permitted  some  of  the 
locks  to  stray  over  the  milky  whiteness  of  her  throat 
and  bosom. 

"  Gilbert  !  what  have  you  done  ?  Who  has  been  sent 
to  Kendal?" 

"  I  have  been  that  moidered,  Mistress,  I  have  had 
no  thoughts  about  me.  I  would  give  a  matter  of  twenty 
shillings  to  know  what  to  do." 

"This  is  your  affection   for  your   master,  is  it?     A 


288  FRIEND  OLIVIA, 

pretty  crowd  of  sniffling,  sneaking  varlets  he  has  been 
feeding  and  pampering  !  Every  man-jack  of  you  ought 
to  have  been  on  the  search  ere  this.  Come,  sir,  take 
horse  and  go  to  Baron  Le  Tail's,  and  raise  the  cry  there. 
Thomas,  you  make  haste  to  Squire  Bevil's.  Jekyl,  you 
ride  post-haste  to  Kendal,  rouse  the  constables  and  the 
justices,  and  see  to  their  getting  out  a  hue  and  cry. 
The  master  had  gold  on  him  ;  I  tell  you  he  had  gold  on 
him,  and  plenty  of  it.  All  of  you  knew  that.  Pray  God 
all  of  you  know  not  more  than  you  ought  to  know  about 
this  delay  and  the  reason  of  it.  I  am  suspicious  of  you ; 
before  God,  I  am  suspicious  of  you  all !  A  bad  lot  the 
master  pampered  ;  I  always  told  him  so.  Guzzling  and 
planning,  instead  of  calling  me  and  hurrying  on  the 
search  yourselves.  You  have  let  hours  go  by  without 
one  word  or  effort.  It  looks  evil ;  it  looks  scandalously 
evil!" 

"  Mistress,  these  are  strange  words." 

"  True  words,  Audrey ;  only  too  true  !  If  you  are 
indeed  innocent,  make  shift  to  reach  Farmer  Gates,  and 
what  you  cannot  do  he  can.  Jess,  you  foot  it  over  the 
moor  to  the  head-shepherd.  Nan,  you  take  the  high 
road,  and  turn  hither  the  first  man,  you  see,  gentle  or 
simple." 

"  Mistress,  I  am  little  able  to  ride." 

"  Make  shift  to  do  so,  Gilbert.  You  will  ride,  per 
haps,  to  the  saving  of  your  own  life ;  for  I  swear  by  my 
conscience  I  trust  none  of  you  !  Too  much  delay  !  Such 
a  good  master !  Such  an  idle  pack  of  ingrates  around 
him  !  " 

Her  passion  was  so  well  assumed  that  it  carried  all 
resistance  before  it.  The  younger  servants,  white  and 
terrified,  hasted  to  do  her  bidding.  Audrey  and  Gilbert 
had  not  the  moral  courage  to  keep  their  own  ground. 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHEN  AGE.  289 

In  fifteen  minutes  she  had  the  house  to  herself,  and 
then  she  hastily  sought  the  spot  where  Pastro  had  met 
her  on  the  previous  day.  There  it  was  most  likely  he 
would  be  waiting  for  her  again.  Her  supposition  was 
correct.  When  she  reached  the  lavender  beds,  the 
brown  hand  parted  the  hazel-boughs,  and  the  large 
brown  face  with  its  gold-ringed  ears  gleamed  for  a  mo 
ment  amid  the  green  leaves. 

"Pastro?" 

"  Here,  my  Lady." 

"What  news?" 

"All  is  well  done." 

"You  got  him?" 

"  Safe." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  The  Devil  or  Captain  John  knows.  He  is  between 
them  and  the  deep  sea." 

"  Where  did  you  get  him?  " 

"Two  miles  out  of  Kendal." 

"At  what  hour?" 

"  At  eleven  last  night.     He  was  in  drink." 

"  How  was  it  done  ?  " 

"  We  were  three.  One  stopped  his  horse.  One 
felled  him.  Captain  John  gagged  him.  I  had  bor 
rowed  after  dark  the  horse  and  cart  of  a  fisher  who  was 
out  with  his  lines.  We  laid  the  brute  at  the  bottom  of 
it.  I  and  my  mate  went  with  the  cart.  Captain  John 
rode  the  horse  of  Chenage  to  the  sea-shore.  We  reached 
it  about  one  o'clock.  All  was  quiet.  Our  boat  was 
waiting.  We  tossed  him  into  it,  struggling  like  a  caught 
conger,  and  just  as  dumb.  I  saw  him  put  on  board." 

"Then?" 

"  I  took  back  the  horse  and  cart.  The  fisher's  wife 
heard  me.  I  told  her  a  bit  of  smuggling  had  been  done, 

19 


290  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

and  gave  her  a  gold  piece.  She  nodded  very  sensibly. 
Then  I  rode  the  horse  nearly  back  to  Chenage,  and 
turned  him  loose.  He  did  his  part  well  also.  I  have 
waited  here  for  you." 

"  Pastro,  Pastro  !   how  can  I  thank  you?  " 

"  For  Captain  John  I  would  cut  off  my  hands.  To 
help  a  fair-lady  out  of  trouble  is  thanks  by  itself.  I  am 
paid." 

"  You  are  a  fine  gentleman ;  I  swear  there  are  few  as 
fine  !  Where  go  you  now?  " 

"To  the  sea-shore.  The  farmers  stare  at  me.  By 
the  sea  I  am  with  my  kind.  For  three  days  the  Captain 
will  keep  in  deep  water ;  on  the  last  night  I  shall  meet 
him  by  Barrow  and  get  aboard  again." 

"  Then  you  will  see  Chenage  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  "  and  he  nodded  with  the  syllable  most  ex 
pressively. 

"  Will  you  have  wine  or  meat  ?  I  have  time  to  bring 
them." 

"  They  will  be  a  great  gift  to  me." 

So  she  hasted  back  to  the  house,  and  took  from  the 
buffet  a  bottle  of  wine  and  some  meat  and  bread.  As 
she  passed  through  the  hall  she  stood  a  moment,  and 
lifted  a  riding-whip  which  lay  upon  a  table  with  Che- 
nage's  hunting-cap  and  gaiters.  A  bright  but  vindictive 
smile  widened  her  mouth  as  she  did  so ;  and  after  she 
had  given  Pastro  his  food  she  said,  — 

"  When  you  see  Roger  Chenage,  give  him  this  whip, 
and  tell  him  '  to  take  patience '  with  it.  That  was  com 
monly  his  word  when  he  used  it  on  me,  — '  Take  pa 
tience,  Mistress.'  Deliver  as  much  to  him,  and  say  with 
it  that  I  think  of  him  hourly,  and  find  in  the  thought 
a  very  reasonable  happiness." 

Then  Pastro  wrapped  the  long  lash  round  the  leathern 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHEN  AGE.  29 1 

handle,  laughing  low  as  he  did  so ;  for  he  was  thinking 
within  himself  what  a  delightful,  devilish  thing  it  would 
be  in  Captain  John's  hand. 

She  stopped  on  her  return  to  the  house  and  gathered 
a  handful  of  lavender.  She  put  her  face  in  its  hot  per 
fume,  and  then  fastened  the  purple  heads  in  her  girdle. 
She  did  not  hurry,  and  she  found  plenty  of  time  to  eat 
a  refreshing  breakfast  before  there  was  any  answer  to 
the  many  calls  for  help  she  had  sent  out. 

Le  Tall  came  first.  She  did  not  think  it  necessary  to 
affect  any  great  show  of  grief  to  him.  He  knew  that 
Chenage  treated  his  wife  brutally ;  he  knew  it,  though 
Anastasia  never  said  so.  As  a  friend  of  both  De  Burg 
and  Chenage,  he  assumed  the  duty  of  directing  the 
search  for  the  missing  squire.  As  a  magistrate,  he 
made  the  servants  miserable  ;  for  he  evidently  regarded 
Anastasia's  suspicions  of  them  as  not  altogether  im 
probable.  They  durst  not  leave  their  service,  and  it 
was  now  Anastasia's  pleasure  to  render  it  a  very  hard 
one. 

Revenge  made  her  a  most  economical  housekeeper. 
Comfortable  meals  and  confidential  chats  might  have 
done  much  to  help  their  anxiety ;  but  she  kept  them 
on  bare  rations  and  at  constant  and  divided  service. 
"  Every  piece  of  money  was  needed  for  the  search ; " 
and  whenever  she  found  two  of  them  together,  she 
accused  them  of  making  plots  to  hide  their  crime,  and 
hinted  at  the  necessity  of  securing  them  behind  bolts 
and  bars. 

For  many  days  Chenage  Grange  was  busy  with  comers 
and  goers.  Two  generations  had  not  seen  the  old  gray 
house  so  apparently  gay.  Constables,  magistrates,  friends, 
and  curious  people  of  all  kinds  found  business  there. 
Every  one  was  received  by  Anastasia.  She  listened  to 


292  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

their  suggestions.  She  wept  where  she  knew  weeping 
would  be  effective.  She  smiled  radiantly  through  her 
tears  where  it  was  best  to  dazzle.  She  let  no  one  go 
away  without  eating  or  drinking.  She  earned  the  good 
will  or  the  admiration  of  all  who  approached  her. 

Of  course  the  strange  visitor  of  the  previous  day  be 
came  the  prime  subject  for  suspicion  and  inquiry.  The 
paper  given  to  Anastasia  was  solemnly  opened  in  the 
presence  of  two  magistrates  —  and  found  blank.  At 
that  day  this  was  not  a  remarkable  circumstance.  The 
king  had  probably  an  understanding  with  Chenage  as 
to  what  a  blank  message  would  mean.  Or,  what  was 
more  likely,  the  paper  might  contain  information  which 
could  only  be  made  visible  by  the  use  of  some  secret 
preparation. 

Gilbert  described  the  man  according  to  his  own  won 
derful  opinions  and  suspicions.  Anastasia,  in  clever  but 
guarded  speech,  contrived  to  represent  a  person  as 
utterly  dissimilar  to  John  de  Burg  as  it  was  possible  to 
be.  And  when  nothing  could  be  learned  of  Chenage, 
and  every  trace  of  the  man  beyond  Bevil  gates  vanished, 
popular  opinion  settled  itself  upon  the  surmise  that 
Chenage  had  met  this  stranger,  that  he  was  really  the 
king  or  some  one  very  close  to  the  king,  and  that 
Chenage  had  considered  it  best  for  his  Majesty's  in 
terests,  or  his  own  interests,  to  go  away,  secretly  and  at 
once,  upon  some  important  political  errand. 

"  He  will  return  as  unexpectedly  and  suddenly  as  he 
went  away,"  said  the  greater  part  of  the  friends  of 
Roger  Chenage.  Le  Tall  did  not  echo  this  opinion. 
He  had  heard  from  Anastasia  during  these  days  the  full 
story  of  her  sufferings  and  her  husband's  wickedness, 
and  Le  Tall  was  a  superstitious  man. 

"  The  Devil  has  taken  him,"  he  said  with  a  gloomy 


JOHN  RECKONS   WITH  CHEN  AGE.  293 

terror.     "  He  has  gone  down  into  hell  while  he  was  yet 
quick." 

And  Anastasia  answered  him  not  a  word.  But  there 
was  such  a  strange  intelligence  in  her  gleaming  eyes,  in 
her  parted  lips,  in  her  white  fingers  upon  them,  that  he 
mentally  added,  "  And  you  know  it ! " 


XV. 
IN  APPLEBY  JAIL. 

"  But  if  one  righteously  hath  borne  the  rod 
The  angels  kiss  those  lips  which  spake  for  God." 

"  Send  thy  silver  on  before,  tending  to  his  sick  and  poor. 
Every  dirhem  dropped  in  alms  touches  Allah's  open  palms 
Ere  it  fall  into  the  hands  of  thy  brother.     Allah  stands 
Begging  of  thee  when  thy  brother  asketh  help." 

"  Men  are  more  sensitive  to  contemptuous  language  than  unjust  acts ; 
for  it  is  harder  to  bear  insult  than  wrong." 

/TVHE  little  party  of  relief  from  Sandys  had  left  home 
•*•  in  the  sunshine,  but  it  was  raining  heavily  when 
they  entered  Appleby,  —  that  warm,  misty  summer  rain 
which  seems  so  unreasonable  and  is  so  depressing.  It 
was  too  late  to  visit  the  jail  that  night,  and  they  were  all 
weary  enough  to  be  grateful  for  the  rest  and  refreshment 
of  the  comfortable  hostelry  near  it. 

In  the  morning  it  was  still  raining,  and  Olivia  looked 
mournfully  into  the  wet  street.  Not  far  away  she  could 
see  a  low  stone  building  with  iron  gratings  across  its 
small  apertures,  and  she  knew  instinctively  that  it  was 
the  jail.  Unflinchingly  she  looked  at  it,  in  her  serious 
eyes  the  vague,  sad  speculation  with  which  we  approach 
the  unknown  factors  of  our  destiny.  Nathaniel  stood 
silently  beside  her.  They  were  waiting  breakfast,  for 
Hannah  Mettelane  was  trying  to  get  into  her  hands  in 
orderly  fashion  the  new  circumstances  out  of  which  she 
was  to  make  daily  life. 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL,  295 

"  And  I  '11  tell  you  what,  children,"  she  said,  "  if  you 
are  set,  both  of  you,  on  going  into  that  place,  it  will  be  a 
deal  better  for  me  to  stay  out  of  danger.  If  we  should 
all  be  sick  together,  who  is  to  nurse  the  sick?  Every 
soldier  cannot  go  to  the  battlefield ;  some  one  must  be 
left  in  camp." 

Black  and  miserable  in  the  rainy  morning  looked  the 
iron-grated  jail.  And  its  interior  was  crushing.  For 
there  is  always  some  incubus  of  horror  and  sadness  in 
the  air  of  a  place  where  men  have  suffered  for  genera 
tions,  just  as  in  old  churches  where  men  have  prayed  for 
generations  the  presence  of  the  supernatural  is  almost 
palpable.  An  interview  with  the  jailer  was  the  first 
necessity,  for  in  that  day  this  functionary  was  an  auto 
crat,  responsible  to  none,  guided  only  by  his  own  pas 
sions,  prejudice,  or  interest. 

He  was  found  to  be  a  very  moderate  fellow,  hiding 
beneath  his  Puritanical  garb  and  address  a  strong  liking 
for  the  king  in  exile.  Toward  De  Burg  and  Prideaux, 
who  were  in  prison  for  their  presumed  sympathy  with 
the  king,  he  had  a  favourable  feeling,  and  had  willingly 
permitted  them  such  comforts  as  they  were  ready  to 
pay  for. 

"  But  you  see,  Master,"  said  he  to  Nathaniel,  "  I  do 
rent  this  place  of  the  town,  and  hard  work  it  be  to  make 
my  rent  and  living  out  of  such  as  are  sent  here  —  being 
mostly  Quakers,  who  are  a  stubborn  lot,  and  though 
many  of  them  rich,  standing  on  the  unlawfulness  of 
their  imprisonment,  and  dying  rather  than  paying  their 
dues." 

He  was  taking  his  keys  from  his  leather  belt  as  he 
spoke,  and  Olivia  and  Nathaniel  followed  him  without 
further  remark.  The  opening  of  a  door  introduced 
them  to  the  upper  prison.  It  was  a  large  room,  used 


296  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

for  the  women  prisoners  and  for  light  offenders,  and 
though  foul  and  close  beyond  words  and  but  dimly 
lighted  by  the  open  grates,  still  immeasurably  more 
comfortable  than  the  lower  one,  into  which  they  de 
scended  by  a  trap  in  the  floor  and  a  steep,  ladder-like 
stair. 

In  this  dungeon,  which  was  below  the  street,  there 
were  only  three  small  gratings  in  front ;  the  back  j)art  of 
the  room  remained  in  perpetual  chill  and  shadow.  The 
common  sewer  of  the  town  ran  through  it ;  the  air  was 
full  of  noxious  gases ;  frogs  and  toads  and  crawling 
things  had  there  a  constant  dwelling-place.  It  was 
always  cold ;  its  stone  seats  were  wet  and  slimy,  and 
into  it  the  blessed  sunshine  never  came ;  only  a  dim 
light,  shorn  of  all  its  warmth  and  glory,  crept  timidly  in 
for  a  few  yards,  and  was  then  quenched  in  the  heavy 
miasma  of  the  place. 

Nathaniel  ejaculated  in  a  passionate  whisper  the  great, 
compassionate  name  of  "  God  !  "  Olivia  stood  still  and 
looked  with  widening  eyes  around  her.  A  Friend  with 
placid  face  near  one  of  the  gratings  was  braiding  shoe 
laces  and  dreaming  of  heaven.  Another  Friend  was 
drawing  through  the  bars  a  loaf  of  bread  which  a  sym 
pathizer  had  brought  him.  A  third  sat  backward  in  the 
gloom.  Two  men  waiting  trial  for  murder  were  quar 
relling  over  a  pot  of  beer  near  him,  and  a  highwayman  by 
his  side  was  spitting  out  curses  at  the  gibbet  and  chains 
he  foresaw  for  himself.  But  the  Quaker  in  the  midst  of 
them  heard  them  not.  Distrammelled  of  earth,  he  had 
retired  into  the  inmost  inmost  of  the  soul,  where  neither 
man  nor  angels  but  only  God  cometh.  He  was  in  an 
ecstasy.  In  that  divine  depth  his  soul  had  recovered 
her  wings,  and  on  the  six  pinions  of  contemplation 
found  out  that  third  heaven  where  there  is  a  dividing 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL.  297 

asunder  of  soul  and  spirit  by  the  sword  of  the  Lord,  and 
the  spirit  is  joined  to  the  Lord.1 

There  were  two  cell-like  rooms  cut  off  from  this  larger 
one,  and  Prideaux  and  De  Burg  occupied  them.  Na 
thaniel  went  at  once  to  his  cousin.  Olivia  was  speedily 
in  her  father's  arms.  He  had  not  dreamed  of  her 
coining;  she  was  like  the  vision  of  an  angel  to  him. 
And  he  was  so  worn-out,  so  near  the  point  of  exhaustion, 
that  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  wept.  But 
there  are  few  situations  so  bad  that  money  will  not 
ameliorate  them.  A  kind  of  stiff-necked  carelessness 
had  prevented  Prideaux  from  buying  comforts  of  which 
he  had  been  unjustly  deprived,  but  Olivia  felt  no 
such  restraint.  The  jailer  brought,  at  her  order,  plenty 
of  fresh  straw,  and  spread  it  for  Roger  in  a  corner  of  the 
larger  room,  and  he  lay  down  upon  it  gratefully  and  fell 
into  a  sleep  which  every  prisoner  respected.  And  Asa 
put  his  burning  hands  in  Olivia's  with  a  sweet  content. 

"  It  has  been  my  prayer  to  see  thee  once  more,"  he 
whispered.  "  And  thou  needst  not  fear,  for  no  harm 
shall  come  to  thee,  —  God's  love  so  walls  thee  round 
about." 

"What  shall  I  do  for  thee,  Asa? " 

"  Stand  faithful  to  thy  God  and  bear  thy  testimony 
bravely.  Let  not  thy  love  ever  come  before  thy  duty. 
In  due  time  love  will  be  blessed  by  duty.  Thy  father 
hath  changed  much.  His  heart  is  on  fire.  He  hath  a 
zeal  beyond  his  strength.  Leave  him  not  till  thou  canst 
leave  him  wisely.  Be  a  good  girl,  and  God  will  make 
thee  happy.  Thou  canst  trust  him?  " 

"  From  the  beginning  to  the  end." 

All  there  was  left  of  mortal  life  seemed  to  have  fled  to 
Asa's  eyes.  They  had  an  ardent,  longing  gaze,  as  if  his 

1  He  that  is  joined  unto  the  Lord  is  one  spirit.  —  i  Cor.  vi.  17. 


298  FRIEND   OLIVIA, 

soul  was  watching  through  them  for  the  angel  bringing 
his  release. 

"  Be  a  good  girl,  and  God  will  make  thee  happy." 
He  said  the  words  again,  and  fell  into  a  sleepy  stupor 
from  which  he  did  not  rouse  himself  until  sunset.  Then 
he  touched  Roger  and  said,  — 

"  I  have  heard  with  my  inward  ear  the  voice  of  God. 
I  am  come  to  the  day  which  shall  judge  all  my  days. 
Wash  my  hands,  Roger,  and  my  face,  and  put  on  me 
clean  linen,  and  then  I  will  lie  down  and  wait  for  my 
change."  It  was  the  last  intelligent  act  of  a  noble 
death-bed.  Calmly  and  steadily  through  a  week  of 
great  suffering  he  had  been  going  down  to  the  grave, 
with  a  certain  solemn  pomp  of  conscious  grandeur,  as 
one  who  knew  himself  victorious  over  it. 

So  Roger  washed  and  dressed  Asa  for  his  burial.  He 
became  rapidly  worse.  Though  he  had  semi-lucid  inter 
vals  during  the  next  twenty-four  hours ;  though  his  inner 
man  mounted  higher  and  higher,  his  outward  man  hourly 
wasted,  and  drew  toward  its  place  and  centre.  During 
this  last  remnant  of  conscious  life  he  spoke  but  five 
times,  and  each  effort  appeared  to  be  made  from  a  dis 
tance  farther  and  farther  away  from  earth  :  — 

"  Here  I  have  been  very  close  to  Him,  but  now  I 
escape  to  the  courts  of  heaven,  where  I  shall  see  him 
face  to  face." 

"  Rest  in  the  Lord  !    Rest !    Rest !  and  again  rest !  " 

"  The  river  is  very  low  and  calm ;  he  that  is  washed 
needeth  only  to  wash  his  feet !  " 

"  Light !     Light !     A  tide  of  glory  !  " 

"  Felicia  !  " 

Felicia  was  his  wife's  name.  She  had  left  earth  more 
than  forty  years  before. 

"  Felicia  ! "     It  was  the  last  effort  of  mortal  speech, 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL.  299 

though  he  lay  in  a  deathlike  stupor  for  more  than  thre^ 
days  afterward.  Why  was  not  his  earthly  tabernacle 
dissolved  without  this  pause?  For  what  was  he  waiting? 
For  whom  was  he  waiting?  Neither  of  this  nor  of  that 
world ;  it  was  evident  that  he  was  so  far  beyond  mor 
tality  as  to  — 

"  Feel  through  all  his  fleshly  dresse 
Bright  shootes  of  everlastingnesse." 

Olivia  watched  him  constantly,  but  at  midnight  of  the 
fourth  day  the  watch  was  over ;  the  act  of  death  was  ac 
complished.  It  was  a  dark  sultry  night,  with  no  light  of 
moon  or  stars.  The  rain  plashed  heavily  on  the  pave 
ment  outside  ;  the  rush  candle  in  the  heavy  air  of  the  cell 
burned  very  dimly.  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  knelt  together 
on  the  damp  straw  of  the  dying  man's  bed ;  Roger  clasped 
his  hands  and  repeated  in  a  low,  intense  voice  Paul's  tri 
umphant  defiance  of  death.  The  three  Friends  in  prison 
sat  in  silent  prayer  at  a  little  distance.  There  was  a 
calm  beyond  the  calm  of  earth,  and  the  faint  stir  and 
mutterings  of  the  restless  prisoners  in  the  larger  room 
touched  not  the  peace  of  this  place  of  death.  At  the 
last  moment  a  heavenly  radiance  transfigured  the  face  of 
the  dying  man.  It  was  the  light  of  the  rising,  not  of  the 
setting,  life.  Out  of  bonds  and  darkness  through  the  con 
stellations  !  Was  there  any  wonder  that  the  rapture  of 
that  release  glorified  the  moment  of  death? 

The  night  of  Asa's  death  was  the  crisis  of  De  Burg's 
illness.  Nathaniel  had  dared  to  leave  him  only  for  the 
few  sacred  moments  of  the  great  mystery.  Immediately 
after  it  De  Burg  recovered  that  consciousness  he  had  lost 
for  many  days.  During  that  sojourning  at  the  mouth  of 
the  grave  he  had  been  constantly  to  his  own  soul  mutter 
ing  his  crimes.  But  it  was  a  confession  without  repent- 


3OO  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

ance  and  without  promise.  He  came  back  to  life  insolent 
with  that  hate  and  anger  whose  fever  had  already  burnt 
him  to  ashes  and  left  him  without  power  to  give  it  the 
graphic  utterance  he  had  been  accustomed  to.  The 
sight  of  Nathaniel  almost  convulsed  him  with  abortive 
rage,  and  it  was  evident  that  his  presence  would  no 
longer  be  serviceable. 

The  jailer's  wife  had  given  a  bed  to  Olivia,  and  the 
weary  girl  was  sleeping.  Prideaux  sat  beside  his  dead 
servant  lost  in  a  revery  which  Nathaniel  could  not  dis 
turb.  He  awoke  one  of  the  Friends  in  the  prison  and 
left  De  Burg  in  his  charge.  Then  he  went  to  one  of  the 
gratings,  and  standing  by  it,  waited  for  the  morning.  The 
rain  was  over,  but  there  was  a  wrack  of  clouds  driving  on 
the  wind ;  all  the  stars  were  muffled,  and  the  little  town 
was  so  deeply  hushed  in  sleep  that  the  wailing  of  a  sick 
child  a  little  distance  off  seemed  to  fill  the  street  with  a 
portentous  and  sorrow-laden  sound. 

An  influence  he  could  not  escape  was  around  him  ;  and 
as  the  dawn  came  dimly  and  showed  him  the  white  faces 
turned  heavenward  in  their  sleep,  he  comprehended  the 
divine  pity  of  Christ.  And  he  stood  among  those  pris 
oners  of  sorrow  and  sin  with  prayers  and  tears,  bringing 
each  separate  soul,  as  he  understood  it,  to  the  heart  of 
infinite  pity.  Thus  in  the  night  when  there  are  no  or 
dained  priests  in  the  temples,  God  has  priests  consecrated 
without  imposition  of  hands.  Clouds  of  darkness  were  in 
the  sacred  aisles  and  over  the  altars  of  every  church  in 
England,  but  still  priests  ministered  before  the  Lord. 
The  Friend  watching  by  De  Burg  was  praying.  Prideaux, 
sitting  by  "  his  servant  departed  this  life  in  hope,"  was 
praising  God  for  him.  Nathaniel  standing  in  the  prison- 
house  lifted  up  his  hands  and  with  holy  intercession  min 
istered  before  God.  Everywhere  souls  were  awake  with 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL,  301 

sorrow  or  with  pain  and  were  serving,  each  soul  in  its 
course,  before  the  Lord.  "  For  these  are  they  to  whom 
the  night-watch  is  appointed." 

As  soon  as  the  jailer  was  awake  Nathaniel  left  the 
prison.  He  found  at  the  inn  a  messenger  from  Kel- 
dsrby  with  letters  from  the  baron  and  Lady  Kelder. 
The  baron  informed  him  that  George  Sanderson  of  Pen- 
rith  wanted  to  borrow  one  hundred  pieces  of  gold  on 
mortgage,  and  he  requested  Nathaniel  to  accompany  to 
Penrith  the  lawyer  who  had  the  money  in  charge  and  ex 
amine  the  security  given,  "  if  it  was  within  his  duty  to  De 
Burg  to  leave  him  for  so  long."  Lady  Kelder  wrote  more 
explicitly :  — 

SON  NATHANIEL, —  My  cousin  Annie's  husband  is  in 
trouble  through  tampering  with  politics,  —  a  thing  no  decent 
man  can  do  and  keep  out  of  trouble  ;  and  if  your  affections  are 
not  totally  and  sheerly  given  to  those  Quakers,  't  will  be  a  ser 
vice  to  me,  your  mother,  if  you  convey  the  gold  with  some 
words  of  sympathy  and  good-will  in  your  own  person.  'T  is 
not  to  be  hoped  that  you  will  return  to  Kelderby  until  after  the 
assize,  yet  I  pray  you  to  remember  that  you  may  have  some 
indebtedness  to  your  father  and  myself.  Your  father  hath  a 
failing  sickness,  I  fear,  and  I,  — but  it  is  little  matter  on  that 
subject  to  complain.  But  I  pray  you  to  care  a  little  for  your 
own  body's  welfare,  seeing  that  the  soul  is  very  useless  with 
out  the  body  on  this  earth  ;  for  I  do  assure  you  that  good 
health  is  the  soul's  good  fortune.  And  though  a  man  so  far 
gone  in  love  may  not  believe  it,  good  health  is  the  very  salt 
of  life.  My  son,  I  long  to  see  you,  and  so  abide  your  loving 
mother, 

JOAN  KELDER. 

To  the  duty  nearest  to  us  !  Wise  and  good  men  have 
obeyed  that  dictum  long  before  Carlyle  voiced  it.  To  go 
to  Penrith  was  Nathaniel's  most  evident  duty,  and  he 
went.  And  Olivia  was  not  sorry  to  be  rid  for  a  while  of 


302  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Love's  fearing  importunities.  She  perceived  that  a  great 
"  opportunity "  had  been  given  her,  and  she  desired  to 
accept  it  gladly,  without  fear  and  without  restraint ;  but 
Nathaniel's  constant  cautions  and  anxieties  clouded  her 
enthusiasm,  and  really  hindered  her  usefulness.  So  it  is 
that  even  in  love  a  part  is  sometimes  better  than  the 
whole. 

The  two  weeks  that  followed  were  weeks  of  great 
though  subdued  excitement.  Roger's  heart  was  in  a 
flame ;  he  forgot  everything  in  the  great  strait  of  obliga 
tion  which  he  felt  toward  his  fellow-prisoners.  He  was 
an  evangelist  filled  with  his  own  evangel.  The  power  and 
fervour  of  the  Indwelling  Light  burned  within  him,  and 
kindled  every  soul  that  he  approached ;  for  men  catch 
doctrines  by  actual  contact,  by  heart  acting  upon  heart, 
not  by  reasoning  and  written  arguments.  And  to  these 
men  and  women  in  prison,  sinking  through  long,  hard 
pressure  of  obscure  distresses,  or  buffets  of  outrageous 
fortune,  or  bonds  of  actual  crime,  the  gospel  Roger 
preached  was  the  Gospel  of  a  great  Deliverance ;  and 
none  of  them  quite  escaped  the  almost  miraculous  in 
fluence  of  his  burning  words. 

Olivia's  power  was  equally  deep,  though  less  marked. 
She  spent  the  long  hot  days  among  the  women  prisoners. 
There  were  nursing  babies  with  them,  and  the  mother 
of  one  was  shivering  and  burning  with  an  ague.  What 
could  Olivia  do  but  take  the  wasted  little  atom  and 
nurse  it  in  her  own  arms?  She  listened  to  all  these 
poor  creatures'  sorrows.  She  taught  them  several  small 
arts  by  which  they  could  earn  a  trifle  of  money.  She 
brought  them  the  good  food  which  Hannah  Mettelane 
prepared.  She  gave  gold  freely  where  gold  could  give 
liberty.  She  filled  the  hours  t>f  her  voluntary  confine 
ment  with  deeds  whose  loving  unselfishness  touched  even 


IN  APPLES  Y  JAIL.  303 

the  rough  hearts  of  the  jailer  and  his  wife  to  a  far-off 
imitation  of  them. 

Nor  did  she  forget  De  Burg.  He  had  no  conscious 
remembrance  of  her,  and  the  quiet  girl  in  her  duffle 
gray  gown  who  washed  his  hands  and  face  in  sweet 
waters,  who  brought  him  jellies  and  broths  and  the 
delicate  food  he  longed  f  jr,  evoked  no  particular  specu 
lation  in  his  mind.  He  had  indeed  a  double  portion  of 
the  selfishness  of  the  convalescent,  —  he  was  served  and 
comforted,  and  the  fact  was  for  many  days  sufficient  for 
him. 

But  one  afternoon,  when  he  was  so  much  stronger  as 
to  be  lifted  into  a  chair  near  the  grating,  he  did  begin  to 
wonder  vaguely  who  the  girl  might  be.  In  two  more 
days  he  had  progressed  so  far  as  to  reflect  that  the  men 
who  lifted  and  dressed  him  were  evidently  Quakers,  and 
then  it  was  easy  enough  to  infer  that  Olivia  also  was  in 
prison  for  her  faith.  He  called  to  mind  in  a  rambling 
way  the  number  of  wealthy  and  refined  women  who  had 
been  thrown  into  jails  for  not  going  to  church,  or  for 
talking  to  small  congregations  in  their  own  houses,  and 
he  speedily  decided  that  his  nurse  was  one  in  the  same 
case.  Then  some  convincing  thought  connected  her 
with  the  Quaker  Prideaux,  whom  he  had  himself  helped 
into  Appleby  prison.  A  strange  suspicion  followed,  and 
he  was  about  to  trace  it  to  confirmation  when  the  door 
was  softly  opened  and  his  own  daughter  stood  upon  the 
threshold.  She  glanced  at  her  father,  and  instantly 
comprehending  his  ability  to  receive  her,  fell  at  his  feet 
with  a  glad  cry.  She  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
drew  his  wasted  face  down  to  her  own  and  covered  it 
with  tears  and  kisses. 

"  Asia  !   Asia  !    Why  came  you  not  before  ?  " 

"  'T  was  the  fault  of  that  hound  Chenage.      But  he 


304  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

will  never  come  between  u$  again,  my  father.  Never 
again  ! " 

"What  mean  you?     Is  he  dead?  " 

"  He  is  gone." 

"Gone?     But  where?" 

She  looked  him  steadily  in  the  eyes.  "  I  know  not, 
and  I  care  not.  He  treated  me  like  a  servant,  and  he 
flogged  me  like  a  dog." 

"  Flogged  you .'  He  flogged  you  !  A  thousand  hells  ! " 
And  his  parchment-like  skin,  wrinkled  with  the  waste  of 
sickness,  glowed  as  if  there  was  a  flaming  fire  beneath  it. 

"  He  put  you  here  also,  and  by  God's  day  !  I  would 
I  had  him  here  under  my  own  hand  and  foot." 

"  Gone  !  Gone  !  Where  hath  he  gone  ?  Speak, 
Asia  ! " 

"  Le  Tall  saith  that  the  Devil  hath  him,  and  faith  !  I 
am  sure  Le  Tall  has  guessed  to  a  miracle." 

"  I  am  too  weak  to  guess  your  riddle.  In  plain  words, 
what  mean  you?  " 

"The  day  he  disappeared  a  stranger  came  to  Chenage, 
and  he  asked  me  many  things  about  him.  I  kept  noth 
ing  back ;  I  showed  him  the  bruises  on  my  arms  and 
bosom.  He  made  my  wrongs  his,  as  he  had  a  right  to 
do.  Chenage  went  to  Kendal  market  that  day,  and  he 
never  came  home." 

"Kidnapped?" 

"The  man  said  he  came  on  the  'king's  business,'  and 
the  general  report  is  that  Chenage  went  with  him  on  the 
same,  and  will  return  as  unexpectedly  as  he  left." 

"Think  you  that?  " 

"When  to-morrow  comes  back  again  I  shall  begin  to 
tremble." 

She  had  grown  suddenly  gloomy,  and  De  Burg  looked 
uneasily  at  her.  "  You  must  know,  dear  father,  I  could 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL.  305 

not  come  here  earlier;  for  there  was  a  blaze  about 
the  affair,  and  for  my  own  safety  I  sat  still  where  I 
was,  in  the  sight  of  all.  But  when  the  nearness  of 
your  trial  gave  me  excuse,  I  grudged  every  moment  of 
delay." 

"  I  have  been  in  the  grip  of  death,  Asia." 

"  Baron  Kelder  wrote  me  of  your  illness,  and  also  of 
Nat  Kelder  coming  to  you.  Nat  hath  a  conscience,  and 
I  knew  he  would  be  good  to  you  for  the  contradiction  of 
the  thing." 

"  'T  was  but  one  of  many  humiliations.  I  know  well 
that  out  of  Prideaux's  pocket  have  come  many  things  of 
prime  importance  to  me,  drugs  and  the  like.  Also  I 
have  been  nursed  by  Prideaux's  daughter,  or  else  I  have 
dreamt  it.  'T  is  hard  to  stomach  such  favours." 

"  Faith  !  't  is  very  easy,  if  you  look  at  it  in  the  right 
way.  Let  Prideaux  pay  for  your  drugs.  Let  Na 
thaniel  give  you  comforts  and  service.  Let  Saint  Olivia 
mend  your  laces  and  linens,  and  make  you  soups  and 
jellies.  Too  much  honour  for  the  lot  of  them  !  Noth 
ing  is  more  comfortable  to  me  than  to  reflect  on  the 
good  things  I  get  out  of  them  that  hate  me."  She 
spread  her  velvet  skirts,  and  looked  down  at  the  jewelled 
clasps  of  her  shoes  and  up  at  her  embroidered  gloves, 
and  then  removed  the  beaver  hat  she  wore  and  shook 
out  its  white  plumes.  And  as  she  did  so  she  said,  with 
a  toss  of  her  haughty  head,  — 

"  Chenage  paid  for  these  braveries,  —  that  is  one  point 
in  their  favour.  I  can  see  him  hugging  his  purse  and 
counting  out  the  gold  pieces  one  by  one,  as  if  they  were 
drops  of  his  heart's  blood.  I  tread  upon  him  every 
time  I  buckle  my  shoes.  I  wish  I  could  send  him  word 
how  gladly  I  wear  the  velvets  whose  cost  he  counted  so 
grudgingly.  Faith  !  these  white  plumes  in  my  hat  he 

20 


306  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

bought  for  his  own  beaver,  and  being  of  the  primest 
quality,  I  make  myself  welcome  to  them.  Odsbodkins  ! 
What  are  your  enemies  for  but  to  serve  you?  Have 
you  forgotten,  Father,  that  the  assize  begins  in  two  days, 
and  that  even  if  your  trial  is  put  off  until  the  last  there  is 
but  little  time  to  prepare  for  it?" 

"  I  have  been  unable  to  think  of  it.  You  must  see  a 
lawyer  for  me." 

"  I  will  do  better  than  that.  I  will  see  the  two  judges ; 
Lord  Cecil  is  one  of  them,  and  I  have  so  worked  on 
Mistress  Cecil  as  to  get  a  grace-letter  from  her  to  him. 
As  for  Lord  Button,  the  other,  he  never  yet  could  resist 
the  *  I  pray  you '  of  a  pretty  woman.  I  shall  make  sure 
of  your  verdict  ere  they  try  your  case.  Keep  your  heart 
at  full  ease." 

The  conversation  then  turned  upon  Chenage  and  her 
married  life ;  and  though  nothing  definite  was  told  De 
Burg,  he  had  a  very  clear  intelligence  as  to  his  son-in- 
law's  fate.  In  his  heart  he  thought  it  very  good  news ; 
and  good  news  is  a  cordial  tinctured  with  the  elixir  of 
life.  Before  Anastasia  left  him  he  was  sitting  straighter, 
and  holding  his  head  with  something  of  its  old  domi 
neering  poise,  as  he  drank  in  his  daughter's  promises 
and  hopes  for  the  future. 

She  put  a  full  purse  into  his  hand  as  she  went  away. 
"  Chenage's  gold,"  she  said  with  a  merry  laugh.  "  I 
hope  he  remembers  how  much  he  saved  for  you  and  for 
me.  When  the  king  comes  to  Whitehall,  dear  father, 
faith  !  we  will  carry  it  with  the  highest  there." 

She  was  in  a  royal  humour,  and  as  she  passed  through 
the  prison  rooms  she  left  some  of  her  smiles  and  gold 
among  their  wretched  inmates.  They  talked  about  her 
as  if  she  was  some  creature  of  different  clay ;  and  when 
they  wearied  of  their  speculations  they  sat  pondering 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL.  307 

gloomily,  each  in  his  own  heart,  the  different  darkness 
in  which  we  have  our  mortal  birth. 

The  next  day  she  came  early  to  the  prison.  It  was  a 
wet  day,  and  it  angered  her,  for  she  was  a  woman  made 
for  the  sunshine.  As  imprudent  as  she  was  impulsive, 
she  took  no  pains  to  preserve  the  good-will  it  had 
pleased  her  to  buy  on  the  previous  day.  She  spoke  per 
emptorily  to  the  jailer,  and  manifested  without  restraint 
her  contempt  and  loathing  for  the  situation  in  which  she 
found  herself. 

As  -her  eyes  pierced  the  gloomy  room  their  sullen  stare 
suddenly  turned  to  one  of  passionate  anger.  Olivia  was 
walking  in  the  more  quiet  space  at  the  end  of  the  room, 
and  she  had  a  babe  in  her  arms.  Its  white  puny  face 
lay  against  her  bosom,  and  she  was  softly  singing  it  to 
sleep.  Anastasia  stood  still  a  moment  and  looked  at  her. 
The  gray  dress,  the  square  of  white  lawn  folded  across 
her  breast,  the  placid  face,  irritated  her  beyond  control. 
She  remembered  at  the  moment  what  her  father  had 
said  of  the  care  given  him  by  the  Prideaux,  and  it  struck 
her  only  as  a  piece  of  impertinent  interference  with  a 
life  too  weak  to  resent  it.  She  walked  straight  to  Olivia. 

"Your  servant,  Mistress  Prideaux.  I  take  credit  to 
myself  for  my  forethought  in  sending  you  here.  'T  was 
for  my  father's  sake  I  did  it,  and  sure  the  motive  will  be 
excuse  enough  for  the  deed.  But  faith  !  I  have  no  taste 
for  your  further  company."  She  made  a  scornful  cour 
tesy  with  the  words,  drawing  down  her  handsome  brows 
in  a  black  frown. 

"  Thou  sent  me  not.  I  came  here  for  the  lov£  of 
God,  and  out  of  charity  for  thy  father's  desolate 
condition." 

"  Then  pray  make  your  charity  a  large  claim  on  the 
Almighty.  Faith  !  I  hope  he  may  be  so  good  as  to 


308  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

pay  you,  for  I  vow  I  have  not  a  fair  word  or  a  gold  piece 
for  you." 

"  Thou  art  freely  welcome  for  God's  sake." 

"  Where  is  Nat  Kelder  ?  'T  is  said  you  were  in  Lon 
don  in  his  company,  and  that  you  found  the  excuse  of 
your  father  to  follow  him  to  Appleby.  Fie  !  fie  !  I 
would  you  had  more  modesty  or  more  pride." 

Olivia  answered  her  not.  She  still  continued  her  walk, 
but  she  had  ceased  singing,  and  her  cheeks  were  flaming 
with  indignation. 

"  Answer  me,  Mistress." 

Then  the  sick  woman  turned  and  looked  at  Anastasia, 
and  a  virago  called  Moll  Bassing  went  close  to  her,  and 
putting  her  hands  upon  her  hips,  defied  her  by  the  dumb 
provocation  of  a  face  shoved  in  closest  proximity. 

"  Off,  you  pestilent  creature  !  " 

"  Off  thyself !  Or  if  thou  be  so  fain  for  a  fight,  look  'ee 
here  !  "  And  she  bared  her  brawny  arms,  and  doubled 
her  huge  red  fists  in  Anastasia's  face. 

"  Moll,  be  quiet.  Thou  knowest  well  that  nothing 
can  harm  me." 

"  A  God's-blessing  on  thee,  Mistress  !  'T  would  be  a 
hard  death  for  any  who  tried  to  harm  thee  here."  Then 
addressing  Anastasia :  "  Now,  Mistress  Penny- Pride 
be  off !  Go  thy  ill  ways.  This  room  is  for  better  folks 
than  such  as  thou  be." 

Anastasia  looked  scornfully  at  the  woman ;  she  de 
spised  her  brutal  passion,  and  mocked  it.  Turning  to 
Olivia  with  a  laugh,  she  said,  "  So  this  is  one  of  your 
friends,  Mistress  Prideaux.  I  ever  thought  you  were 
base-born." 

"  Base-born  !     Hear  her  !  hear  her  !  " 

The  women  were  now  all  talking  together,  and  the 
room  was  in  a  tumult.  Anastasia  stood  her  ground,  but 


IN  APPLEBY  JAIL.  309 

there  was  a  look  of  terror  in  her  eyes.  She  knew  they 
were  quite  capable  of  giving  her  a  far  more  severe  pun 
ishment  than  ever  Chenage  had  attempted. 

Then  Olivia,  holding  the  babe  in  her  left  arm,  put  her 
right  hand  upon  their  leader.  "  Moll,  thou  must  sit  down 
and  be  quiet.  If  thou  strikest,  thou  wilt  hurt  me  most 
of  all." 

Her  voice,  so  calm  and  even,  had  an  authority  they 
had  learned  to  love  and  a  charm  they  could  not  resist. 
They  obeyed  her  at  once,  dropping  their  hands,  but 
still  muttering  threats  as  Olivia  turned  to  Anastasia. 

"  Mistress  de  Burg,  be  pleased,  for  thy  own  sake,  to 
remove  at  once.  Here  is  danger  for  thee,  though  none 
for  me.  I  wish  not  to  see  thee  hurt."  And  though  the 
proud  woman  stood  flashing  hatred  and  scorn  on  the 
speaker,  she  was  yet  insensibly  controlled  by  her  stern, 
still  face  and  the  calm,  positive  voice  with  which  she 
commanded  her  obedience. 

"  I  owe  you  somewhat  already,  Olivia  Prideaux,  and 
you  may  add  this  impertinence  to  the  bill." 

Then  there  was  another  passionate  outcry  from  Moll 
Bassing  and  her  companions,  and  the  jailer  angrily  strode 
toward  the  group. 

"  Moll,  I  will  give  both  you  and  the  fine  madam  you 
are  quarrelling  with  a  taste  of  my  whip  if  you  keep  not 
the  peace." 

"  Oh,  jailer,  kind  jailer,  take  us  both  to  task  !  I  'd  say 
'  thank  'ee  for  fifty,'  if  you  give  her  likewise." 

"  Mistress  de  Burg,"  urged  Olivia,  "  I  pray  you  dis 
pute  no  further,  but  go  at.  my  word.  You  do  but  pro 
voke  those  that  you  must  needs  obey." 

"  Well,  then,  't  is  no  shame  to  flee  from  such  a  rabble 
lot.  Jailer,  open  the  door." 

"Patience,   Mistress.     This    is    my  house,   and,   by 


310  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Heaven  !  't  is  easier  to  get  in  than  to  get  out.  Go  into 
the  passage-way  and  cool  yourself.  I  would  not  have 
you  set  the  town  on  fire." 

She  gave  Olivia  one  steady,  vengeful  look  before  she 
went,  and  Olivia,  still  holding  the  child  close  to  her 
breast,  looked  steadily  back  at  her.  And  Anastasia  was 
astonished.  For  in  that  moment  she  saw,  not  the  gentle 
Quaker  maiden,  but  a  tall,  noble-looking  woman,  hold 
ing  her  head  high  in  conscious  rectitude,  and  glowing 
with  sinless  indignation  at  outrage  unnecessary  and 
unprovoked. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
MISTRESS  OF  CHENAGE. 

"  We  do  not  know  when  we  shall  pass  through  a  day  — the  child  of  the 
sun  — with  never -failing  good  ;  for  currents  run  this  way  and  that,  bringing 
both  pleasures  and  sorrows." 

"  For  the  sower  of  the  seed  is  the  author  of  the  whole  harvest  of 
mischief." 

TO  Kelderby,  between  the  sea  and  the  mountains, 
winter  came  early.  It  was  yet  September,  but  the 
air  was  chilly,  and  Nature  was  facing  the  inevitable  with 
that  sad  patience  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  last 
days  of  autumn.  The  sea  lay  quiet,  colourless,  mournful. 
The  mountain-tops  were  invisible,  their  shoulders  covered 
with  a  shady  mantle  of  clouds,  their  feet  sandaled  with 
fir  forests,  sounding  softly  the  lament  of  ancient  days. 
Like  a  gloomy  lake  of  purplish  barrenness  were  the  dis 
tant  moors.  Nearer  at  hand  the  cattle  and  sheep  stood 
mournfully  among  the  bracken,  now  every  colour  but 
green,  —  amber,  crimson,  lilac,  ivory,  and  russet-brown. 
In  the  stubble  crows  were  calling  in  hoarse,  coarse  voices 
to  a  flight  of  fieldfares  rushing  past  them  in  hurry  or  fear. 
Where  the  meadows  skirted  the  village,  boys  were  play 
ing  football ;  and  old  men  leaning  over  the  stone  wall 
watched  the  ball  rise  against  the  gray  sky,  and  listened  for 
the  thud  with  which  it  fell  to  the  ground. 

The  baron  saw  these  things  with  a  sigh,  and  then 
turned  to  the  windows  which  looked  into  the  garden. 


312  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

The  flowers,  the  bees,  the  birds,  the  butterflies,  were  all 
gone  away.  A  solitary  robin  on  a  bare  rose-tree  sang 
their  requiem,  or  perhaps  the  song  of  their  resurrection ; 
for  his  trilling  ended  upon  his  highest  notes,  and  had  a 
tone  of  triumph  in  it.  And  in  the  garden  there  was  still 
beauty.  The  eglantine  rods  waved  their  small  scarlet 
balls;  the  ivy  was  chapleted  with  jet;  the  privet  had 
black  clusters  that  gleamed  like  glass.  For  these  faithful 
plants  wear  their  memorials  of  summer  until  the  snow 
buries  them. 

Such  scenes  speak  with  solemn  eloquence  to  age. 
Kelder  took  the  sermon  into  his  heart,  and  then  turned 
his  face  from  the  outside  world.  The  world  inside  was 
far  more  cheerful.  The  low,  long  room,  with  its  dark 
walls,  its  handsome  furniture,  its  bright  hearth,  was  made 
still  more  delightful  by  the  pleasantly  thoughtful  woman 
spinning  in  its  light  and  warmth.  For,  in  spite  of  her 
impulsive  temper  and  ready  tongue,  Lady  Kelder  was 
capable  of  great  restraints  where  her  husband  was  con 
cerned.  She  understood  his  revery.  The  patience  of  his 
face  and  attitude  asked  for  her  respect,-  and  she  gave  it. 
She  knew  that  his  solitary  and  silent  moods  were  peopled 
with  far  higher  thoughts  than  she  could  share ;  then  she 
was  content  to  sit  patiently  in  the  outer  sanctuary  of  his 
life.  But  when  he  pushed  his  chair  toward  the  fire,  and 
sitting  down,  looked  into  her  face  with  a  smile,  she  gladly 
welcomed  back  to  her  a  companionship  full  of  sweetness 
and  strength  and  confidence. 

"  We  shall  have  a  storm  anon,  Joan." 

"  I  fear  it.  And,  dear  me  !  I  do  wish  Nathaniel  was 
at  liberty  to  attend  a  little  to  his  own  affairs." 

"  He  is  constrained,  and  I  trust  willingly,  to  do  his 
duty." 

"  A  gadabout  kind  of  duty  it  is.     Never  at  home." 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  31  3  ^ 

"  I  wonder,  Joan,  if  Mistress  Chenage  went  to 
Appleby?" 

"  Make  yourself  certain  of  it.  Would  Anastasia  miss 
an  opportunity  to  display  herself  ?  I  am  sure  that  the 
moon  would  sooner  fail  in  her  orbit.  But  you  may  cer 
tify  all  wonders  now,  for  I  hear  my  son's  voice  !  "  Her 
face  shone,  and  she  rose  up  hastily  from  her  wheel. 

Into  the  still  old  house  there  came  with  Nathaniel,  not 
hurry  or  tumult,  but  a  sense  of  most  abundant  life.  His 
presence  filled  the  room  like  sunshine.  He  kissed  his 
mother,  and  gave  both  hands  to  his  father,  and  let 
his  bright,  sensitive  face  rest  upon  them,  and  upon  each 
familiar  object,  with  a  proud  thankfulness. 

Quickly  the  whole  house  felt  his  home-coming.  Voices 
and  movements  of  unusual  brightness  and  pleasant  hurry 
passed  through  it.  The  baron,  restless  with  expectation, 
walked  up  and  down  the  room.  Jael  brought  forward  a 
small  table  and  spread  upon  it  spiced  brawn,  cold  par 
tridge,  and  the  wheaten  loaf.  An  apple  tart  and  a  pitcher 
of  thick  cream  edged  the  more  substantial  dishes.  Wine 
and  Old  October  were  placed  within  his  choice.  Lady 
Kelder  watched  these  preparations  with  a  thoughtful 
smile,  and  to  crown  them  brought  the  chased  silver 
tankard  which  she  had  given  her  son  on  his  twenty-first 
birthday. 

In  a  short  time  Nathaniel  was  ready  for  the  meal.  He 
had  changed  his  clothing,  and  removed  all  traces  of  travel, 
save  such  as  defied  outward  renovation.  But  these  were 
very  marked.  He  was  worn  and  weary-looking.  His 
soul  had  evidently  wasted  his  body.  He  had  the  appear 
ance  of  a  man  who  had  lacked  comforts,  but  who  had 
not  lacked  fatigue  and  mental  worry. 

But  it  was  pleasant  to  see  the  evident  enjoyment  with 
which  he  sat  down  to  his  own  table,  —  his  grateful  face, 


.314  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

his  whispered  thanksgiving,  the  hearty,  healthful  portion 
which  he  meted  out  to  his  necessities.  And  though  it 
may  not  be  a  very  exalted  pleasure  to  watch  those  we  love 
enjoying  a  good  meal,  it  is  at  least  a  very  real  one.  The 
father  and  mother  looked  at  the  young  man  with  delight, 
and  doubled  the  delight  by  a  constant  interchange  of 
glances  which  expressed  their  mutual  satisfaction.  And 
Nathaniel,  though  hungry,  remembered  that  his  parents 
had  a  very  reasonable  curiosity,  and  as  he  cut  the  gener 
ous  slices  of  brawn  he  was  saying,  — 

"  My  Uncle  Sanderson  hath  a  very  lively  gratitude  to 
you.  Doubtless  he  will  repay  the  gold,  and  in  the  mean 
time  he  hath  given  us  a  good  gage  for  it.  They  were  full 
of  trouble,  and  my  Aunt  Ann  had  lost  her  health  on  the 
matter." 

"  Ann  was  ever  a  whimperer  when  things  went  not  as 
she  would  have  them.  I  hope  now  she  will  be  so  wise  as 
to  keep  her  husband  out  of  folly.  In  these  troublous 
times  that  is  the  first  duty  of  wives." 

The  baron  smiled  faintly  at  this  little  home  thrust,  and 
asked,  "What  news  have  you  of  Cousin  De  Burg?" 

"  De  Burg  hath  been  strangely  ill.  'T  was  feared  that 
he  would  never  recall  his  senses.  God  be  thanked,  that 
terror  is  passed  !  " 

"  In  what  condition  is  he  now?  " 

"  He  is  very  weak.  Two  men  carried  him  to  his  trial. 
One  could  have  borne  the  burden,  so  much  hath  he  fallen 
away." 

"  What  hath  been  done  in  his  affairs,  Nathaniel?" 

"  He  goes  to  London,  —  to  the  Tower.  His  estate  is 
sequestered  to  the  Commonwealth,  with  such  modest 
allowance  from  it  as  will  pay  his  needful  expenses  in 
prison." 

"I   do   not   rejoice   over   him,"    said    Lady   Kelder, 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  315 

"  though  he  has  but  gotten  the  wages  he  earned.  '  They 
who  kindle  a  fire  must  put  up  with  the  smoke.  And  as 
he  could  not  bear  wealth  well,  he  must  learn  how  poverty 
will  bear  itself.  Was  Mistress  Chenage  at  the  trial?  " 

Nathaniel's  face  darkened  as  he  answered,  "  She  was 
there.  I  think,  however,  that  the  Protector  himself 
judged  both  De  Burg  and  Prideaux,  or  the  one  had  got 
less  than  his  deserts  and  the  other  more ;  for  Anastasia 
had  won  the  judges  ere  her  father  came  to  his  trial,  and 
her  passion  at  their  decision  in  Prideaux's  case  showed 
that  she  intended  him  more  harm  than  he  got." 

"  George  Fox  has  been  in  London  again.  He  may 
have  moved  Cromwell  about  both  men." 

"  Cromwell  is  froward  in  himself  to  render  justice.  But 
herein  some  one  had  taught  him  particulars,  for  after  the 
judges  were  on  the  bench,  and  the  assize  opened,  a  spe 
cial  messenger  arrived  and  delivered  them  in  open  court 
two  papers,  and  I  am  most  sure  their  superscription  was 
in  the  Protector's  handwriting.  In  De  Burg's  case  the 
verdict  was,  without  doubt,  unexpected,  for  Mistress 
Chenage  showed  a  temper  of  disappointment  beyond  all 
womanliness.  Nor  did  she  company  with  the  judges 
afterward." 

"  What  said  she,  Nathaniel?  " 

"  Dear  mother,  't  would  be  unprofitable  and  fretting  to 
repeat  her.  She  is  the  sort  of  woman  who  cannot  miscarry 
in  her  undertakings  without  calling  earth  and  heaven  to 
witness  what  wrongs  she  suffers." 

"  Indeed,  't  is  said  her  tongue  hath  driven  her  husband 
beyond  seas." 

"  Pray  God  her  intents  were  not  sharper  than  her 
words  !  I  think,  indeed,  that  Anastasia's  heart  is  worse 
than  her  tongue." 

"  What  mean  you  ?  " 


316  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Nay,  I  will  not  shape  my  suppositions.  I  doubt  that 
Chenage  forgot  that  the  enemy  he  neither  suspected  nor 
feared  was  the  most  dangerous." 

"What  heard  you  of  his  strange  disappearance?  " 

"  A  confused  report  passed  through  my  ears,  but  full  of 
hurry  and  unlikely  dread.  Le  Tall  whispers  of  the  Devil 
and  bottomless  perdition.  Others  say  he  prodigally  threw 
his  life  away,  and  now  sits  in  hell  brooding  o'er  the  un 
profitable  escape.  'T  is  certain  his  wife  mourns  not  for 
his  fate ;  she  laments  it  o'er  much.  Great  sorrows  find 
not  leisure  for  such  complaining." 

"  Hath  De  Burg  left  for  London?  " 

"  He  was  most  anxious  to  leave.  The  Tower  is  a  pal 
ace  to  the  hole  in  which  he  has  suffered  so  much ;  't  is 
also,  he  says,  '  a  prison  befitting  his  rank.'  And  though 
he  could  scarce  whisper,  he  made  shift  to  tell  me  that 
King  Charles  would  pay  a  brave  rent  for  his  lodging." 

"Is  there  good-will  between  you?" 

"  He  is  as  grateful  as  a  man  can  be  who  reviles  fate  for 
giving  him  back  life  through  such  hands  as  mine.  Anas- 
tasia  travels  with  him.  She  will  pillow  his  way  with  her 
enchantments.  I  think  surely  the  officers  on  guard  will 
carry  him  all  the  way  in  their  arms  if  she  but  smile  and 
ask  them.  Never  has  she  been  so  radiantly  beautiful ;  yet 
never  have  I  thought  her  so  little  to  be  wished  for,  so 
much  to  be  dreaded." 

"  We  carry  the  character  of  our  souls  mystically  in  our 
faces,  Nathaniel.  What  says  the  son  of  Sirach  ?  '  A  man 
may  be  known  by  his  look,  and  one  that  hath  understand 
ing  by  his  countenance,  when  thou  meetest  him.'  If  God 
giveth  wisdom  to  conjecture  the  countenance,  it  is  as  leg 
ible  as  a  book,  read  in  less  time,  and  far  less  apt  to  de 
ceive  us ;  but  in  this  matter  God  speaketh  often  to  men 
and  they  heed  him  not." 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE,  317 

"You  are  quite  right,  Baron.  As  for  Anastasia,  the 
woman  is  pretty  handsome,  but  she  is  no  miracle.  I  can 
never  believe  her  beauty  able  to  smite  any  sensible  man. 
Pray  God  she  do  nothing  worse  than  smile  her  father  an 
easy  journey  to  a  sad  enough  place  !  " 

Presently  the  baron  said,  "  I  have  been  thinking  of 
Roger  Prideaux.  You  say  the  Protector  judged  his  case 
also?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  He  has  been  fined  three  thousand 
pounds  for  his  imprudent  hospitality." 

"A  lighter  punishment  than  I  expected  for  him." 

"  Punishment  is  the  wrong  word,  sir.  Prideaux  was 
unworldly-wise,  but  otherwise  guiltless  of  any  fault ;  and 
Cromwell,  who  is  a  discerner  of  men  and  of  spirits,  knew 
so  much." 

"  Were  there  any  new  particulars  in  the  trial  ?  " 

"None.  The  evidence  taken  in  Kendal  was  gone 
over  but  hurriedly,  for  the  judges  were  aware  that  the 
Protector  had  already  sifted  it  ere  he  advised  the 
sentence." 

"  Did  Anastasia  appear  against  Prideaux  ?  " 

"  Yea,  and  her  fair  face  and  bitter  words  had  wrought 
his  ruin  if  his  case  had  not  been  taken  into  a  higher  court 
by  George  Fox.  For  surely  I  think  it  must  have  been 
Fox,  —  or  you,  dear  father?" 

"  I  made  no  special  pleading  for  Prideaux.  Cromwell 
asked  me  concerning  the  man,  and  I  spoke  the  truth  as 
I  believed  it."  Then  the  eyes  of  father  and  son  met 
with  an  understanding  in  them,  full  of  sympathy  and 
gratitude. 

"  Was  the  Quakeress  present?  " 

"  Her  evidence  was  required." 

"  Truly  't  was  a  time  for  both  women  to  make  a  show 
of  their  beauty  and  virtues.  Let  me  see  them  as  they 


318  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

appeared.     I  have  the  curiosity  which  is  natural,  I  am 
sure." 

"  Anastasia  was  dressed  in  black  velvet  with  many  gold 
ornaments.  She  held  a  little  court  of  the  lawyers  and 
magistrates,  and  her  brilliant  smiles  won  the  jury  ere  they 
had  seen  the  prisoner.  When  Prideaux  entered  she 
looked  at  him  as  the  hunter  looks  at  the  creature  already 
in  the  toils." 

"And  the  Quakeress?" 

"  She  sat  with  her  aunt  under  the  eyes  of  Anastasia,  and 
within  hearing  of  her  malicious  words.  But  Olivia's  soul 
was  refuged  in  a  height  beyond  both." 

"  Was  she  looking  handsomely  ?  Was  she  dressed  so 
as  to  win  the  good- will  of  observers  ?" 

"  She  trusted  in  something  more  than  beauty  and  fine 
raiment." 

"  Poor  silly  one  !  Has  she  no  worldly  wisdom  ?  Could 
no  one  tell  her  that  a  good  suit  of  clothes  wins  many  a 
suit  at  law,  —  that  a  fair  face  is  a  good  case,  as  justice 
now  goes?" 

"  Olivia  wore  the  sober  garments  which  best  become  a 
woman.  She  is  lovely  enough  to  need  not  the  adornment 
of  gay  cloth  and  gold  and  jewels.  I  would  that  you  had 
seen  her.  You  would  have  thought  better  of  all  other 
women  for  her  sake." 

"  Indeed,  I  know  not.  A  woman  so  wondrous  fair 
might  surely  have  asked  of  her  beauty  whatever  good  in 
fluence  it  had  to  help  her  father's  case.  Men  are  men, 
and  not  angels,  Nathaniel." 

"  Then  men  should  not  be  tempted  to  injustice,  even 
though  it  tended  to  mercy.  Olivia  had  a  surer  friend 
than  her  own  loveliness.  '  God  was  on  our  side,'  she 
said  to  me  after  the  trial.  '  Oh,  I  knew  well  in  whom  I 
trusted  !  I  said,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  save 
my  father."  And  he  saved  him.'  " 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE,  319 

"Yet  he  has  three  thousand  pounds  to  pay." 

"  She  prayed  not  for  his  gold,  but  for  his  life." 

"  Three  thousand  pounds  !  'T  is  a  big  price  for  a 
single  guest.  He  will  entertain  no  more  strangers,  I 
think." 

"  Prideaux  would  shelter  a  flying  man  to-morrow.  So 
would  Olivia." 

"  These  Quakers  are  good  at  holdfast.  They  get  an 
idea  —  " 

"  A  conviction,  Mother." 

"  A  conviction,  then,  —  for  instance,  that  it  is  wrong  to 
give  hat-honour  to  any  creature,  and  they  will  rot  in 
prison  or  hang  in  chains  rather  than  uncover  their  heads. 
Faith  !  their  religion  is  in  their  hats,  as  Samson's  strength 
was  in  his  hair.  Surely,  Nathaniel,  they  are  very  poor 
creatures.  If  they  were  not,  some  would  say  a  good  word 
for  them  ;  but  Independents,  Presbyterians,  Baptists,  and 
Episcopalians  are  all  against  a  Quaker." 

"  I  confess  it.  And  there  is  excellent  reason  for  their 
hatred.  Men  who  can  live  a  life  of  the  straitest  piety  and 
the  most  sublime  faith  without  the  help  of  churches  must 
be  stumbling-blocks  and  rocks  of  offence  to  the  priests  of 
every  creed.  Churches  are  everything  to  priests  that 
Diana  was  to  the  silversmiths  of  Ephesus.  No  wonder 
they  cry  out,  and  make  an  uproar,  and  hale  Quakers  to 
prison ;  for  their  craft  is  in  danger  if  men  press  beyond 
all  forms  and  symbols  and  worship  the  Spirit  in  the 
spirit." 

"  Nothing  but  spirit,  spirit,  spirit,  and  not  a  word  of 
sacraments  and  the  ministry  !  No,  I  will  not  disdain 
the  helps  which  God  has  provided.  Losing  myself  in  a 
wilderness,  and  knowing  nothing,  and  being  nothing, 
and  having  no  will  and  no  desires  of  my  own,  is  but  a 
poor  exchange  for  the  comfort  of  prayers  and  sacra- 


32O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

ments,  and  the  shelter  of  the  Church,  and  the  advices 
of  the  priest.  Until  God  gives  me  wings,  I  shall  be 
so  wise  as  to  use  my  feet,  Nathaniel." 

The  baron  smiled,  and  Nathaniel  leaned  toward  the 
earnest  little  lady  and  kissed  her.  She  had  the  last  word 
in  the  argument,  and  it  satisfied  her.  With  a  more  be 
nignant  face  she  asked,  "What  is  to  be  done  to  that 
poor  serving-man?" 

"  God  has  taken  him.  He  was  dying  when  I  reached 
Appleby.  Mother,  I  will  tell  you  a  great  thing  of  that 
poor  serving-man.  He  had  saved  three  hundred  pounds  ; 
he  spent  it  all  in  Appleby  jail.  Many  wretched  men, 
dying  slowly  for  small  debts,  he  set  at  liberty.  All  pris 
oners  for  conscience'  sake  shared  it  to  the  last  penny. 
In  his  thin,  aged  arms  five  men  died  happy  for  the 
great  hope  he  had  taught  them.  It  appeared  as  if  the 
strength  and  spirit  of  his  youth  came  back  to  answer  his 
great  need  of  them." 

"  I  think  that  he  was  a  good  man." 

"  Indeed,  Father,  he  was  a  soul  of  God's  best  earthly 
mould ;  wise  in  that  learning  that  comes  by  reverence. 
Concerning  the  many  entrances  to  scientific  divinity  Asa 
knew  nothing  at  all ;  but  he  had  found  out  the  one  only 
door  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

"  Is  Appleby  jail  so  bad  a  place  as  it  is  said  to  be?  " 

"  'T  is  like  all  the  jails  in  England,  Father ;  a  hideous 
place  in  which  dwell  murder,  envy,  baleful  destinies, 
squalid  filth,  wasting  corruption,  and  many  diseases. 
Birth  is  there,  and  death  ;  slumber  and  wakefulness ;  the 
cry  of  the  wicked  in  his  punishment;  the  cry  of  the 
child  in  its  innocent  suffering;  discordant  clamours; 
the  solemn  whisper  of  prayer;  yea,  and  the  still  small 
voice  of  God." 

"  Yet,  Nathaniel,  a  hard  place  to  die  in." 


MSSTJ?£SS  OF  CHEN  AGE. 

"  Asa  lay  down  there  as  calmly  as  a  child  lies  down 
to  slumber  on  its  mother's  knee.  '  T  is  beyond  doubt 
that  he  had  glorious  company  all  down  that  'narrow 
road  shelving  to  the  grave,'  which  George  Fox  foresaw 
for.  him.  And  his  last  mortal  word  was  a  glad  cry  of 
recognition,  —  Felicia  !  " 

"Felicia?" 

"  'T  was  his  wife's  name.  She  left  him  many  years 
ago." 

"  So  does  death  make  marriage." 

The  baron  spoke  with  great  emotion,  and  Lady  Kel- 
der  lifted  her  eyes  to  her  husband's  face  and  caught  the 
tender  look  with  which  he  was  regarding  her.  It  was  a 
moment  in  which  all  felt  their  immortality.  But  it  is 
only  for  a  moment  the  mortal  can  bear  what  is  above 
mortality,  and  the  first  natural  rebound  of  spiritual  ex 
altation  is  to  touch  earth  again.  Lady  Kelder  rose, 
brought  her  wheel  to  her  hand,  and  began  to  spin. 
And  as  she  gently  turned  it  she  asked, — 

"  Did  Prideaux  come  back  with  you,  Nathaniel?  " 

"  No ;  the  payment  of  his  fine  was  to  be  secured,  and 
certain  formalities  to  be  gone  through,  which  may  delay 
him  several  days.  He  is  determined  upon  the  sale  of 
Sandys." 

"  That  seemeth  strange,  Nathaniel,"  said  the  baron. 
"Three  thousand  pounds  could  not  endanger  Sandys 
beyond  relief." 

"  And  if  it  be  truly  got,  it  may  be  comfortably  kept, 
Nathaniel." 

"  Yea,  Mother.  Prideaux  could  keep  Sandys,  but  his 
confinement  hath  changed  him  so  much  that  he  desires 
not  to  keep  it.  Seeing,  and  hearing  of,  and  sharing  in 
the  affliction  of  his  people,  hath  made  his  faith  a  burn 
ing  flame.  He  will  no  longer  dwell  in  comfort  while 

21 


322  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

they  are  scattered  through  all  the  dungeons  in  England. 
He  has  determined  to  join  Fox,  and  visit  the  oppressed 
in  every  town,  and  minister  to  their  bodily  and  spiritual 
necessities." 

"  The  Vagrant  Act  is  manifestly  made  for  such  travjel- 
ling  Quakers.  He  will  be  in  prison  again." 

"  In  every  prison  he  will  find  men  to  preach  to,  and 
friends  to  help." 

"Self-denying,  I  confess.  But  what  will  become  of 
his  fair  daughter?  " 

"  She  goes  with  her  aunt  to  Mettelane."  He  rose  with 
the  words,  and  proposed  to  his  father  a  walk  among  the 
farm  offices.  "  The  men  are  coming  in  from  the  fields," 
he  said,  "  and  I  want  to  talk  to  them."  In  reality  he 
feared  any  conversation  with  his  mother  concerning 
Olivia. 

So  they  left  the  room  together,  and  Jael  entered  as 
they  did  so.  She  began  to  clear  the  table,  and  for 
some  minutes  Lady  Kelder  did  not  speak  to  her. 
Among  the  white  flax  her  white  hands  moved,  and  the 
wheel  hummed  gently  to  her  indeterminate  and  chang 
ing  thoughts. 

"  Jael ! " 

The  woman  stood  still  upon  the  hearth  and  looked 
inquiringly  at  her  mistress. 

"Jael,  I  have  heard  that  the  serving-man  Asa  Bevin  is 
dead.  I  think  surely  that  he  was  a  good  man, — in  intent, 
—  and  it  may  be  that  God  will  accept  the  intention." 

"  Ambrose  has  told  us  about  him.  Ambrose  went 
often  to  the  jail  with  my  young  master.  Asa  Bevin  did 
his  whole  duty.  He  always  did  that,  did  Asa." 

"  One  should  be  sure  that  it  is  a  duty,  Jael,  before  we 
give  life  away.  Life  is  a  great  gift,  happen  the  Lord 
likes  us  to  value  it." 


MISTRESS  OF  CHRNAGE.  323 

"  True,  my  Lady.  But  if  you  are  going  to  do  anything 
for  other  people's  lives,  you  will  often  have  to  lose  your 
own,  and  make  no  words  about  it.  It  is  a  grand  thing, 
my  Lady,  to  over-get  the  world,  and  count  death  eternal 
life." 

"  Unreasonableness  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a 
Quaker.  If  Asa  would  have  taken  off  his  hat,  he  could 
have  kept  out  of  jail  and  been  alive  to-day." 

"  Likely.  More  body  and  less  soul  had  served  him 
better  for  this  world." 

"  What  said  Ambrose  of  the  trial?  " 

"That  the  judges  had  ready-made  verdicts.  'Tis 
said  that  the  Pro  —  " 

"  I  know,  and  't  is  like  enough.  Was  Mistress  Pri- 
deaux  present?  " 

"  At  her  father's  side." 

"  And  Master  Nathaniel  ?  " 

"  By  her  side." 

"  I  feared  it.  God-a-mercy,  Jael  !  what  is  to  be  done 
in  this  affair?" 

"  What  we  can't  manage  it  is  best  to  leave,  my  Lady. 
We  only  spoil  what  we  have  no  charge  to  put  different. 
Ambrose  said  a  handsomer  pair  never  stood  together; 
and  't  is  certain  that  the  Quaker  maid  far  outshone  the 
young  widow,  —  if  widow  she  be." 

"  What  was  said  of  Mistress  Chenage?  " 

"  I  'd  as  lief  say  nothing  of  her.  She  is  a  naught  of 
all  naughts.  First  ogling  the  judges,  and  then  rating 
them,  and  anon  turning  on  Master  Nathaniel  and  Mis 
tress  Prideaux  as  if  she  had  a  mind  to  kill  them.  Most 
people  thought  her  off-at-side  with  temper,  and  I  am 
much  of  their  mind.  Handsome,  but  a  bad  heart  in 
her;  and,  like  the  cats,  never  doing  good  but  out  of 
an  ill  intention." 


324  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  'T  is  said  Master  Prideaux  will  leave  Sandys." 

"  I  heard  tell.  'T  was  a  bad  sign  to  see  such  heavy 
crops  on  the  land,  and  I  said  so ;  a  fey  harvest,  —  the 
last  for  him." 

"  In  many  things  you  are  too  superstitious,  Jael." 

"  God-a-mercy  !  No,  my  Lady.  I  but  read  the  every 
day  book  open  before  my  eyes.  Thus  and  so,  from 
generation  to  generation  ;  and  why  would  n't  it  be  true  ? 
When  Lucy  Halliday's  baby  died  I  said  to  her,  *  Pour 
all  your  milk  on  the  ground,  or  death  will  come  again  ; ' 
and  she  said,  '  Nay,  she  would  n't  be  that  silly ; '  and  so 
she  kept  her  milk  and  lost  the  next  bairn  also." 

"  A  pagan  libation,  Jael.  Why  should  Christian  moth 
ers  mind  it?" 

"  I  strain  not  my  wits  over  why  and  wherefore,  my 
Lady.  Many  happenings  inner  and  outermer,  and  no 
reasons  given  us  for  them." 

"  What  a  noise  the  birds  are  making  above  the 
windows  !  " 

"Philip  the  sparrow.  Brawling,  impudent  birds,  always 
wrangling  and  always  eating.  Very  common  birds,  my 
Lady ;  no  quality  among  them.  But  when  they  are 
getting  ready  for  bed  it  is  near  shutting-in-time."  Then 
Jael  moved  toward  the  door,  and  Lady  Kelder  began  to 
turn  her  wheel  again ;  but  she  sighed,  and  her  face  had 
the  perplexed  look  of  one  who  finds  life  a  riddle  beyond 
the  solving. 

Nathaniel  had  avoided  a  discussion  concerning  Olivia 
on  the  night  of  his  return,  but  in  the  morning  he  volun 
tarily  sought  his  mother's  confidence.  Something  in  his 
face  and  manner  revealed  his  purpose  before  he  spoke, 
and  Lady  Kelder  was  at  once  in  arms.  She  lifted  her 
face  with  a  smile  to  meet  him,  but  she  inwardly  resented 
the  fact  that  Olivia  was  to  be  forced  upon  her  notice. 


Ml 'STRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  325 

She  had  a  score  of  more  interesting  things  to  discuss, 
and  she  thought  Nathaniel  might  have  waited  her 
pleasure.  In  fact,  she  was  very  much  in  the  same 
temper  that  made  the  wolf  find  the  lamb  guilty  of  dis 
turbing  the  stream,  whether  the  stream  flowed  up  or 
down. 

She  talked  nervously  and  hastily  of  the  dahlia  bulbs 
and  the  apple-gathering ;  of  Nathaniel's  own  need  of  a 
new  velvet  suit ;  of  his  father's  failing  health ;  of  her  own 
numerous  household  anxieties.  She  felt  her  son's  divi 
nation  of  her  motive,  and  at  last  she  could  no  longer  talk 
against  the  pained  intelligence  of  his  face.  She  became 
suddenly  silent,  and  then  made  as  if  she  would  put  by 
her  wheel  and  leave  the  room. 

"  Stay,  Mother.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  about  Mistress 
Prideaux." 

"  God's  mercy  !  Am  I  never  to  lose  the  echo  of  a 
name  so  hateful  to  me?  I  have  done  my  best  to  avoid 
this  question ;  if  you  force  it,  Nathaniel,  you  must  take 
the  result  from  me." 

"  I  do  so  love  the  girl,  dear  mother." 

"  Faith,  sir  !  If  confessions  are  to  be  made,  let  me 
tell  you  —  I  do  so  hate  the  girl." 

"But  why?" 

"  There  is  neither  why  nor  wherefore  about  it.  You 
have  no  right  to  ask  me  why;  and  indeed  I  have  other 
questions  of  far  greater  weight  to  occupy  my  conscience 
with." 

"  I  intend  to  marry  Olivia  Prideaux,  Mother." 

"  Well,  you  have  said  so  before ;  but  between  saying 
and  doing  is  a  big  journey." 

"  Her  father  is  determined  to  go  to  the  American 
colonies.  I  have  won  the  girl's  love.  If  I  marry  her 
not,  I  force  her  to  a  long  and  dangerous  voyage,  and  a 


326  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

life  for  which  she  is  totally  unfit.  'T  is  my  part  of  hon 
our,  as  well  as  of  love,  to  offer  her  now  the  protection 
of  my  name  and  home." 

"  Well,  then,  what  home?  " 

"  Kelderby  is  so  large,  Mother.  " 

"  'T  is  a  world  too  small  for  Olivia  Prideaux ;  and 
here  she  comes  not  while  I  stand  as  its  mistress.  Bring 
me  a  daughter  like  Mary  Bellingham,  and  I  will  share 
all  I  have  with  her ;  or  your  cousin  Singleton ;  or  even 
Jean  Raby.  Faith,  Nathaniel !  though  I  love  a  good 
woman,  I  care  not  for  saints  and  angels,  —  till  I  have 
a  translation." 

"Dear  Mother,  be  patient  with  me.  Will  you  let 
me  have  the  use  of  Swaffham  Manor  House?  You  go 
not  into  it,  nor  nigh  it,  and  it  is  quite  empty." 

"  Swaffham  !  My  own  dower  house  !  No,  sir  !  If 
your  father  dies  before  I  do,  I  must  go  to  Swaffham,  and 
you  will  bring  that  Quakeress  here.  Do  you  think  I 
will  give  fate  such  an  opportunity?  To  step  down  from 
Kelderby  to  Swaffham  is  ill  enough;  but  to  take  her 
place,  and  let  her  take  mine,  —  that  is  a  thing  beyond  my 
contemplation,  and  ought  to  be  beyond  yours.  A  good 
son  has  never  dared  to  think  that  his  mother  was  mortal." 

"  Be  not  so  unjust  in  your  words,  Mother ;  your 
thoughts,  I  know,  condemn  them.  And  if  you  will  not 
love  my  wife,  to  force  you  is  above  humanity.  I  must 
pray  God  —  " 

"  No,  sir  !  I  charge  you  make  no  such  prayer  for  me. 
And  as  for  a  home,  why  go  you  not  to  Sandys?  " 

"  Sandys  is  to  be  sold." 

"  To  pay  the  Quaker's  fine  ?  " 

"  No  '  needs  be '  for  that  end ;  but,  as  I  told  you, 
Roger  Prideaux  goes  to  America,  and  will  turn  all  his 
estate  into  gold." 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  327 

"  Faith  !  if  he  goes  nigh  to  the  Plymouth  Colony,  he 
will  get  his  deserts.  Brave  Endicott  and  the  priests 
who  whet  the  swords  and  knot  the  scourges  for  him  are 
such  men  as  fear  not  to  handle  Quakers,  be  they  men  or 
women." 

"  Dear  Mother,  't  is  the  thought  of  this,  and  of  Oli 
via's  upright  soul,  and  of  her  danger  — " 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  Olivia  and  her  father  to 
cross  oceans  in  search  of  such  dangers.  Because  they 
are  stubborn  in  folly,  shall  I  give  up  my  home  to  save 
the  girl?  I  trow  not !  " 

"One  room,  Mother  —  " 

"If  she  had  one  room,  I  should  feel  her  in  every 
room.  I  will  not  have  her  here,  nor  in  any  place  that 
is  mine.  Take  that  for  your  answer,  sir.  And  I  shall 
count  you  very  much  mine  enemy  if  you  name  the  girl 
in  my  hearing  again." 

She  rose  up  with  the  words,  and  looked  steadily  at  her 
son.  Her  face  was  flushed,  her  head  thrown  haughtily 
backward ;  but  through  her  misty,  troubled  eyes  her 
heart  denied  every  cruel  word  she  had  uttered.  And 
her  son's  attitude  smote  her.  He  stood  by  the  high  oak 
chimney-piece,  his  teeth  firmly  set  in  his  under  lip.  De 
spairing  anger  widened  his  mournful  eyes.  He  was  the 
image  of  one  who  had  been  wronged  by  a  love  that 
should  have  succoured  him.  She  could  not  bear  to 
leave  him  without  a  word  more  like  conciliation,  and 
with  the  open  door  in  her  hand  she  said  gently, — 

"  Any  girl  but  this  girl  I  will  love  for  your  sake,  my 
son." 

"  There  is  no  other,  Mother." 

Then  she  closed  the  door,  and  went  upstairs  and 
cried  bitterly ;  and  would  listen  to  none  of  Jael's  com 
forting,  because  she  was  sure  Jael  in  her  heart  sided 


328  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

against  her.  She  complained  that  she  had  no  friend 
in  her  trouble,  —  not  even  the  baron,  who  ever  since 
he  saw  Olivia  in  London  had  been  weak-hearted,  and 
she  verily  believed  double  in  the  matter. 

Perhaps  the  baron  was ;  at  any  rate,  his  authority  was 
sufficient  to  prevent  the  open  sore  of  perpetual  discus 
sion.  Nathaniel  went  to  and  fro  between  Kelderby  and 
Sandys,  and  his  visits  were  not  commented  on.  And 
precious  as  the  last  sands  of  life  were  these  hours  to  the 
lovers ;  for  they  knew  that  as  soon  as  Sandys  was  sold 
some  change  must  come.  They  inquired  not  of  the  fut 
ure,  but  took  day  by  day  as  a  special  gift  of  happiness. 

In  December,  Roger  unexpectedly  closed  the  house. 
He  was  going  through  England  with  George  Fox ;  and 
perhaps  also  he  thought  that  Nathaniel  was  acquiring 
an  undue  influence  over  his  daughter.  So  Olivia  went 
to  Mettelane  with  her  aunt,  and  fair  Sandys  was  left 
alone  with  its  memories. 

Just  before  Christmas,  Nathaniel  was  one  day  on  his 
road  to  Mettelane,  and  on  Kendal  bridge  he  met  Anas- 
tasia  face  to  face.  She  had  a  strange  gentleman  in 
her  coach,  and  three  serving-men  rode  behind  her. 
She  looked  at  Nathaniel  fixedly,  with  burning  eyes ;  but 
this  day  Nathaniel  did  not  salute  her.  Never  before 
had  he  failed  to  uncover  his  head  when  they  met,  and 
she  was  passionately  angry  at  the  implied  slight.  She 
put  her  head  out  of  the  window  of  the  coach,  and  called 
after  him,  — 

"  So-ho,  Cousin  !  Are  you  become  a  Quaker,  that 
you  refuse  me  hat-honour?  or  has  the  Quakeress  for 
bidden  you  ?  Faith,  you  are  a  very  scurvy  fellow ;  and 
I  have  a  mind  to  send  my  footman  to  chastise  you." 
The  words  were  emphasized  by  the  mocking  laugh  he 
knew  so  well ;  and  for  a  moment  his  face  burned,  and 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  329 

he  had  a  desperate  longing  to  make  her  companion  pay 
for  the  impertinence.  Then  he  thought  of  Olivia,  and 
the  temptation  passed  with  the  thought,  and  he  rode 
onward  whispering  her  name. 

Anastasia  was  going  to  Chenage.  She  was  going  to 
carry  out  a  little  scheme  of  revenge  which  she_  had  long 
contemplated,  and  she  was  in  high  spirits.  Her  meet 
ing  with  Nathaniel  made  her  dull  and  gloomy;  but  as 
soon  as  she  came 'in  sight  of  the  gray,  mournful- looking 
house  she  flung  aside  the  depression.  A  dazzling  light 
sprang  into  her  eyes.  Her  lips  parted  in  smiles.  Her 
cheeks  flushed  vividly,  and  she  impatiently  pushed  from 
them  the  long,  drooping  curls  of  her  dark  hair. 

The  gates  were  locked,  and  the  dogs  prowling  about 
the  inclosure  like  wild  beasts.  Their  furious  barking, 
and  the  clatter  made  upon  the  gates  by  her  attendants, 
at  length  brought  both  Gilbert  and  Thomas  to  demand 
the  reason  of  it.  They  were  confounded  by  the  appari 
tion  of  their  mistress.  They  trembled  at  the  sound  of 
her  voice,  at  the  nameless  atmosphere  she  brought  into 
the  house  with  her. 

Never  had  a  meal  been  cooked  in  Chenage  with  such 
expedition  as  was  cooked  for  Anastasia  that  day.  While 
the  servants  were  all  busy  about  it,  muttering  beneath 
their  breath  their  fears  and  their  opinions,  she  suddenly 
stepped  into  the  kitchen,  and  asked  if  they  had  heard 
anything  of  their  master ;  and  there  was  so  much  sus 
picion  and  anger  in  her  voice  that  only  Audrey  found 
courage  to  answer  with  a  short  but  positive  negative. 

Anastasia  fancied  there  was  a  tone  of  insolence  in  the 
word,  and  she  looked  at  the  woman.  It  was  a  cleaving 
glance.  It  made  Audrey  remember  all  the  cruelty  and 
petty  insolence  of  her  small  triumphs.  It  made  her 
heart  turn  cold  with  fear.  It  made  her  resolve  to  leave 


33O  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

Chenage  on  the  following  day.  Even  when*  her  mistress 
went  back  to  the  parlour,  she  could  not  join  in  the  low, 
timorous  conversation  that  followed.  She  went  to  the 
door,  and  looked  out.  It  was  snowing,  and  the  cold 
was  intense ;  but  she  whispered  to  herself,  "  To-morrow 
I  go,  if  she  stays." 

Five  minutes  after  she  had  made  this  resolution,  one 
of  the  men  brought  from  London  by  Anastasia  informed 
Audrey  that  she  was  wanted.  An  excessive  terror  seized 
her ;  she  went  trembling  to  answer  the  call.  She  was  at 
no  time  a  pleasant-looking  old  woman.  Cruelty,  avarice, 
sensuality,  had  left  their  marks  upon  her  hard  face ;  and 
her  bleared,  soulless  eyes  essayed  in  vain  their  usual 
insolent  stare.  When  Anastasia  looked  at  her,  she 
dropped  their  fat  lids,  and  stood  in  half-rebellious  hu 
mility  before  the  mistress  whose  wrongs  and  sorrows 
she  had  so  often  insulted. 

"We  will  go  through  the  house,  Audrey.  Get  the 
keys  and  unlock  the  rooms." 

"  They  are  unlocked,  Mistress." 

"All  of  them?" 

"I  would  n't  wonder,  Mistress.  Master  liked  them 
unlocked,  —  he  did  that." 

Anastasia  laughed ;  but  it  was  a  laugh  which  made 
Audrey  wish  that  she  had  not  spoken  of  her  master. 

"  Go  before  us." 

From  parlour  to  chamber  they  went,  —  Audrey  first, 
Anastasia  and  the  stranger  following.  She  called  him 
Captain  Temple,  and  she  had  a  good  deal  of  conversa 
tion  with  him  regarding  improvements  and  refurnishing ; 
and  Audrey  understood  from  its  tone  that  it  was  the 
intention  of  Anastasia  to  live  at  Chenage  a  great  part 
of  her  time. 

"  If  Roger  Chenage  should  come  back,"  she  said  with 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE'.  331 

an  indescribable  air,  —  "  if  he  should  come  back,  I  wish 
to  be  here  to  welcome  him."  Audrey  listened  to  her 
with  fear  and  wonder.  She  was  constantly  appealed  to 
regarding  the  traditions  of  certain  rooms ;  but  ever, 
amid  her  babbling  recollections  of  former  squires  and 
dames  of  Chenage,  she  was  trying  to  recall  the  special 
indignities  and  unkindnesses  she  had  offered  to  its  pres 
ent  mistress. 

In  a  little  corner  room  of  the  second  story,  which 
afforded  a  magnificent  view  of  the  country,  the  paity 
stood  silent  for  a  few  moments ;  and  Audrey,  dropping 
a  most  unusual  courtesy,  turned  to  leave. 

"  Stop  !   we  have  not  yet  seen  the  upper  floor." 

"The  garret,  Mistress?  —  the  lumber-room?  There 
is  nothing  else." 

"  Only  the  most  interesting  room  in  the  house,  —  the 
room  in  which  Lady  Cecilia  died ;  I  mean,  in  which 
she  was  done  to  death.  Captain  Temple  is  a  relative 
of  hers;  he  wishes  to  see  it,  Audrey." 

"  I  protest,   Mistress." 

"  I  protest,  Audrey,  that  you  will  open  it." 

With  a  white,  sullen  face  Audrey  produced  the  key, 
and  preceded  the  party  upstairs.  In  a  few  moments 
they  stood  within  a  large  apartment  containing  nothing 
whatever  but  the  iron  staple  and  chain  and  bracelet,  as 
Chenage  had  described  them.  It  was  lighted  by  several 
windows ;  but  the  chain  was  too  short  to  admit  of  a 
prisoner  reaching  any  of  them.  Captain  Temple  looked 
the  horror  he  felt.  Anastasia  touched  the  instruments 
of  cruelty,  and  then  turned  to  the  trembling  woman  at 
her  side. 

"How  long  was  the  Lady  Cecilia  a  prisoner  here?" 

"  Eleven  years.     She  was  mad." 

"No  wonder.     Who  had  charge  of  her?" 


332  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"I —  I  was  very  kind  to  her." 

"The  better  for  you;  for  'tis  said  her  ghost  walks 
here  all  night,  and  I  intend  you  to  keep  it  company. 
Well,  if  you  did  her  no  wrong  you  need  not  fear  it." 

"Mistress,  have  pity  !" 

"Such  pity  as  you  gave  you  shall  have." 

"  I  shall  die  ;  I  shall  die  of  fright ! " 

"  Faith  !  no  one  will  be  sorry.  So  this  was  to  have 
been  my  chamber,"  —  she  looked  with  kindling  anger 
around  her,  —  "and  you,  woman,  my  jailer!  Give  me 
the  key  of  the  bracelet !  " 

"  Mistress  ! " 

"Give  me  the  key  !  " 

She  was  in  a  blazing  passion,  and  the  stamp  of  her 
foot  on  the  floor  was  like  a  blow  to  the  almost  fainting 
woman.  But  she  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket  and  found 
the  key,  and  with  an  almost  inarticulate  cry  for  mercy 
she  handed  it  to  Anastasia. 

"Captain,  lock  the  ring  round  her  right  wrist.  It  is 
your  part  of  a  righteous  retribution." 

Then  the  woman  grovelled  in  abject  terror  and  hu 
miliation  at  Anastasia' s  feet,  and  Anastasia  spurned  her 
away  with  loathing  and  hatred.  There  was  no  pity  in 
her  reproaches ;  there  was  still  less  pity  in  the  stern 
silence  of  the  man  who  was  Lady  Cecilia's  avenger ;  and 
in  a  few  moments  Audrey  was  learning  by  personal  expe 
rience  something  of  the  misery  she  had  inflicted. 

"  Make  haste  to  die ;  it  is  your  only  hope  of  release." 
And  with  these  words  Anastasia  locked  the  door  and 
went  leisurely  with  her  companion  down  the  dark,  wind 
ing  staircase.  Her  light  laugh  and  the  tapping  of  her 
shoes  on  the  oak  floors  were  strangely  distinct  in  the 
uncanny  silence  of  the  lonely  house. 

After  she  had  eaten  and  drank  she  called  in  every  one 


MJSTXESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  333 

of  the  old  servants  of  Chenage  and  dismissed  them. 
Gilbert,  who  had  been  all  his  life  in  the  house,  pleaded 
that  he  had  no  relatives  left  and  knew  not  where  to  go. 

"I  will  warrant  you  have  money  saved,  for  you  are  a 
thief.  I  have  seen  you  selling  the  wheat  out  of  the 
granary." 

"The  master  has  four  hundred  pounds  and  some 
more  of  mine." 

"  A  likely  story,  truly !  Where  is  your  proof?  and  I 
will  pay  you." 

"Alack-a-day  !  I  have  never  a  scrap  of  writing.  The 
master  knew;  the  master  knew  —  " 

"For  my  part  I  am  sure  that  you  are  an  impudent 
liar." 

"Audrey  knows  too,  Mistress;  Audrey  knows — " 

"Audrey,  indeed  !  Audrey  will  say  whatever  I  want 
her  to  say.  Audrey  is  in  my  service  now,  and  I  will 
keep  her  where  you  cannot  teach  her  what  to  say. 
Thomas,  be  off  from  Chenage  by  noon  to-morrow — by 
daylight  were  better,  lest  worse  befall  you.  Had  you 
also  money  with  the  master?"  Then,  turning  on  the 
women,  she  said  with  a  double  fierceness  :  "  Nan  Kerr, 
I  hear  you  came  from  Carlisle.  Be  as  far  as  you  can  on 
the  way  back  to  Carlisle  ere  my  sleep  is  over.  Jess, 
'pretty  Jessie,"  —  so  your  master  called  you,  I  think, — 
you  are  a  bad  wench,  and  out  of  house  you  go  at  day 
light.  Wages,  did  you  say?  Not  a  farthing  bit.  The 
master  owes  you  money  belike,  also.  Such  a  parcel  of 
rogues  in  a  house  !  I  wish  I  may  keep  my  temper  long 
enough  to  clear  it  of  you." 

"Mistress,  mistress,  I  cannot  leave  Chenage!"  cried 
Gilbert,  piteously.  "  I  am  an  old  man.  I  have  no  home 
but  Chenage.  I  have  no  friends." 

"  Bethink   you,   sirrah.     One   day  I  wished  to  leave 


334  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Chenage  to  see  my  friends,  and  you  told  me  that  the 
dogs  would  not  permit  me.  The  dogs  can  drive  out  as 
well  as  in.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"  God  help  me  !  I  am  old  and  friendless,  and  my  gold 
is  gone." 

"Ask  the  Devil's  help;  'twere  better  you  did  not 
remind  God  of  your  existence.  Ask  the  Devil's  help. 
He  knows  you." 

"Mistress,"  said  Jess,  "I  always  liked  you.  I  will 
serve  you  faithful.  Let  me  stay.  'T  is  a  long  way  back 
to  Conistone,  and  over  mountains  — "  Then  Jess 
ceased  speaking,  for  she  saw  her  mistress  toss  her  head 
and  turn  on  her  heel  with  an  impertinent  shrug,  and  she 
suddenly  remembered  that  she  had  once  answered  her 
in  the  same  manner.  The  action  was  too  cleverly  imi 
tated  to  be  mistaken,  and  the  girl  knew  that  all  her 
entreaties  would  be  in  vain. 

"All  of  you  go,  the  sooner  the  better,  and  leave  be 
hind  you  some  token  for  the  constable.  I  know  not 
what  you  may  have  taken  from  the  house,  but,  faith  !  I  '11 
find  that  out  ere  long.  And,  in  earnest,  I  hold  none  of 
you  innocent  about  the  master.  'T  will  be  seen  yet  that 
you  did  for  him  in  some  way.  I  find  myself  unable  to 
endure  you  longer." 

Then  she  turned  her  back  upon  the  wretched  group, 
and  putting  one  hand  upon  Captain  Temple's  shoulder 
and  one  foot  upon  the  bright  brass  fender,  she  began  to 
sing,  swaying  herself  to  the  melody  with  careless  and 
graceful  movements. 

Temple  looked  at  her  with  wondering  admiration. 
He  was  an  old  man,  and  his  strong  face  was  bronzed 
with  long  sea-service.  In  an  accidental  meeting  with 
Anastasia  in  London  he  spoke  of  his  aunt's  marriage  to  a 
Chenage,  and  then  he  heard  of  her  miserable  fate.  He 


MISTRESS  OF  CHEN  AGE.  335 

had  been  accustomed  to  "  right  his  own  wrong ;  "  he 
understood  the  feeling  of  Anastasia,  and  shared  it.  Her 
spirit  was  admirable  in  his  eyes,  and  he  rejoiced  in  the 
"  accident "  which  had  made  her  free.  Her  singing 
pleased  him ;  he  listened  with  a  smiling  face,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  verse  said,  — 

"Compute  me  how  much  gold  the  young  Earl  of 
Southport  would  give  to  be  here  in  my  place." 

"He  is  but  a  poor  fellow,  Captain, — a  poor  fellow 
who  knows  not  what  opportunity  may  do  for  love ; " 
and  then,  laughing,  she  sang  with  a  meaning  and  spirit 
not  to  be  mistaken,  — 

"  A  silly  shepherd  woo'd,  but  wist  not 

How  he  might  his  mistress'  favour  gain  ; 
For  on  a  time  they  met,  but  kist  not, 
And  ever  after  that  he  woo'd  in  vain. 
Silly  youth,  why  dost  thou  dally, 

Having  time  and  season  fit? 
Never  stand  on  '  shall  I,'  '  shall  I,' 

Nor  commend  an  after  wit 
He  that  will  not,  when  he  may, 
When  he  will,  he  shall  get  nay." 

As  she  finished  the  song  she  brought  the  chess-board 
and  arranged  the  pieces  for  a  game  with  her  companion ; 
and  she  made  her  moves  with  as  much  consideration  as 
if  they  were  her  only  interest  in  life.  The  terror  in  the 
lonely  room  upstairs,  the  fear  and  anxiety  in  the  kitchen, 
gave  her  satisfaction.  She  found  pleasure  in  reflecting 
that  her  abrupt  dismissal  would  send  her  men  and 
women  into  the  world  under  suspicions  they  could  not 
remove,  —  that  they  were  all  without  money,  in  a  lonely, 
mountainous  country,  in  midwinter,  and  at  a  time  when 
there  was  a  superfluity  of  servants. 

After  she  had  got  a  checkmate  she  pushed  the  board 
away,  and  sitting  in  the  firelight,  she  told  such  tales  of 


336  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

her  miserable  marriage  that  the  old  man  listening  wished 
with  a  great  oath  that  he  had  Chenage  and  all  the 
servants  of  his  wicked  will  under  the  hatches  of  his  ship. 
And  then  such  a  strange  light  flashed  into  Anastasia's 
face  that  he  stopped  speaking  and  looked  at  her  in 
wonder.  Just  a  little  more,  and  he  would  have  read  the 
whole  story  in  her  eyes. 

He  went  to  sleep  trying  to  find  it  out.  Anastasia 
slept  not  at  all.  She  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  large,  dim 
room,  stopping  to  throw  a  fresh  log  on  the  fire,  or  to 
look  at  herself  in  the  darkling  mirror,  or  to  open  the 
door,  and  standing  with  head  thrust  fonvard,  listen  for 
any  unusual  noise  downstairs  —  or  upstairs. 

She  was  on  the  watch,  and  would  be  until  she  had 
freed  the  house  of  every  one  connected  with  Chenage. 
"And  then,"  she  said  softly,  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction — 
"and  then  we  shall  attend  to  Prideaux  and  the  saint 
Olivia.  Ha,  ha !  Revenge  is  a  tasty  morsel.  No 
wonder  the  gods  kept  it  for  their  private  share." 

At  length  she  sat  down  before  the  blaze,  and  flung  off 
her  shoes  and  gown  and  all  the  restraints  of  her  fine 
costume,  and  dovered  and  dozed  and  mused  and 
dreamed,  until  the  pallid  dawn  showed  her  a  white, 
frozen  stretch  of  moorland,  and  a  sad,  shivering  group  of 
men  and  women  fighting  their  way  across  it. 

She  watched  them  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  cud 
dled  herself  comfortably  among  the  lamb's-wool  blankets 
and  dreamed  of  what  she  had  been  thinking,  —  the  great 
drift  by  Chenage  Scaur,  which  might,  might — which 
might — be  so  dangerous  for  them. 


XVII. 
PARTING. 

"  But  love  can  hope  where  reason  would  despair." 

"  Their  free-bred  soul 

Went  not  with  priests  to  school, 
To  trim  the  tippet  and  the  stole, 

And  pray  by  printed  rule  ; 
But  they  would  cast  the  eager  word 

From  their  hearts'  fiery  core, 
Smoking  and  red,  as  God  had  stirred 

The  Hebrew  men  of  yore." 

" '  I  ''HE  first  cock  of  hay  drives  the  cuckoo  away;" 
-•-  and  the  Mettelane  meadows  were  all  sweet  with 
hay,  and  the  Mettelane  woods  empty  of  cuckoos.  But 
the  garden  was  ablaze  with  roses,  and  from  the  thickest 
coverts  came  the  music  of  the  nightingale ;  in  the  day 
singing  of  the  invisible  sun  treasured  in  his  soul,  in  the 
misty  midnight  dreaming  aloud  his  hymn  of  impossible 
love,  —  "O  sun  !  O  sea  !  O  rose  I"1 

It  was  the  longest  day  in  the  year,  and  there  were  at 
least  a  dozen  men  and  women  making  hay  in  the  High 
Meadow.  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  sat  under  a  great  oak, 
both  a  little  flushed  with  the  unusual  exercise.  Olivia's 
hood  was  on  her  lap ;  Nathaniel  had  also  uncovered  his 
head,  and  the  cool  west  wind  fanned  them  with  the 
green  leaves  of  the  outstretched  branches. 

They  were  very  happy.  They  were  together,  they 
had  forgotten  all  time  past,  and  they  were  not  inclined 

1  Riickert. 

22 


338  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

to  wonder  about  the  future.  They  knew  that  when 
Sandys  was  sold  there  would  be  a  great  change,  but 
until  then  they  were  taking  the  counsel  of  the  wise  son 
of  Sirach,  "  Defraud  not  thyself  of  a  good  day." 

Never  had  Nathaniel  seen  Olivia  so  charming.  With 
the  innocent  gayety  of  a  child  she  told  him  all  about  her 
simple  life.  Her  head  was  resting  against  the  huge 
brown  trunk,  her  little  feet  just  escaped  the  hem  of  her 
white  dress,  and  their  bronzed  morocco  shoes  and  silver 
latches  gleamed  among  the  green  grasses  around  them. 
Sometimes  they  were  silent  for  very  happiness,  and  then 
they  listened  smiling  to  the  rude  chant  of  the  labourers 
as  they  followed  one  another  through  and  through  the 
swaths  of  drying  grass. 

"  Oh,  the  haymaking  !  the  haymaking  ! 
And  the  shaking, 
And  the  raking, 
And  the  very  merry  making, 
Of  the  hay,  of  the  hay  ! 
Of  the  hay,  hay,  hay !  " 

The  musical  repetition  of  the  word  and  the  rhythmic 
step  and  the  charm  of  voices  in  unison  were  chorus  to 
the  drama  in  their  hearts. 

Suddenly  Nathaniel  felt  an  impulse  irresistible  and 
delightful,  —  a  little  madrigal  long  forgotten  sprang  to 
his  lips,  and  he  gave  it  utterance  in  a  voice -as  clear  and 
strong  as  the  heart  from  which  it  came  :  — 

"Like  to  Diana  uxher  summer  weed, 
Girt  with  a  crimson  robe  of  brightest  dye, 

Goes  fair  Samela ! 

Whiter  than  be  the  flocks  that  straggling  feed, 
When  washed  by  Arethusa  faint  they  lie, 

Is  fair  Samela  ! 

"  As  fair  Aurora  in  her  morning  gray, 
Decked  with  the  ruddy  glister  of  her  love, 
For  she 's  Samela  I 


PARTING.  339 

Like  lovely  Thetis  on  a  calmed  day, 
When  as  her  brightness  Neptune's  fancy  move  — 
Shines  fair  Samela ! 

''  Passeth  fair  Venus  in  her  bravest  hue, 
And  Juno  in  the  show  of  majesty, 

For  she 's  Samela  ! 

Pallas  in  wit,  —  all  three,  if  you  will  view, 
For  beauty,  wit,  and  matchless  dignity 

Yield  to  Samela !" 

To  Olivia,  ignorant  of  the  gods  of  ancient  days,  there 
was  no  express  meaning  in  the  words.  But  the  dulcet 
measure  of  the  music  was  a  charmful  force.  They  rose, 
and  hand  in  hand  went  through  the  fields  singing  of 
"  Fair  Samela."  For  when  the  heart  is  full  of  rapture  it 
recovers  its  spiritual  language,  and  breaks  forth  into 
singing.  The  words  make  little  matter.  Nathaniel  had 
not  thought  of  "  Fair  Samela "  for  many  a  year ;  it  was 
a  song  without  words,  as  far  as  Olivia's  intelligence  of 
them  went ;  but  its  allegro  maestoso  melody,  full  of  slow 
periods  and  long  movements,  expressed,  far  beyond 
human  language,  the  ravished  perfervidness  of  a  love 
so  noble  that  it  must  look  to  eternity  for  its  highest 
fulfilment. 

Softer  and  yet  more  penetrating  grew  the  iterated 
lines,  the  words  became  living  words,  they  floated  into 
the  warm  atmosphere  and  lingered  there ;  and  the 
lovers  felt  no  weight  of  mortal  flesh,  but  seemed  to  float 
and  glide  with  them  through  the  glowing  evening  atmos 
phere,  as  if  their  will  were  motion  and  their  love  gave 
them  wings. 

At  the  garden  gate  Nathaniel  ceased  singing.  They 
were  going  to  enter  common  life  again.  They  could 
hear  Aunt  Hannah  calling  to  a  servant  to  hasten  the 
sunset  meal,  and  the  dairymaids  in  the  home  meadow 
calling  the  cows  to  the  milking.  But  before  he  opened 


340  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

the  gate  he  took  Olivia  in  his  arms  and  kissed  the  rosy 
blush  upon  her  cheeks,  and  the  love-light  shining  through 
her  dropped  eyelids,  and  the  almost  visible  love-words 
upon  her  lips  :  — 

"  Dearest  Heart  \     Mine,  and  only  mine  ?  " 
"  Thine,  beloved,  and  only  thine." 

The  words  were  like  a  golden  band  between  them. 
Their  clasped  hands  typified  it.  They  stood  still  a 
moment  to  listen  to  a  song-sparrow.  He  was  singing 
on  tiptoes,  sparkling  all  over  with  little  cries  of  happi 
ness.  The  box-trees  diffused  a  woody  fragrance ;  the 
gold-dusted  snapdragons,  the  stocks  in  scented  blow, 
the  white  and  purple  fritillaries,  and  the  sweetwilliam's 
homely  smell  were  part  and  parcel  with  the  marvel  of 
the  golden  skies.  Noticing  nothing  particularly,  they 
felt  the  influences  of  every  flower  and  every  song,  and 
light  and  shadow.  They  were  so  happy  they  forgot  to 
hope  and  they  forgot  to  fear.  The  present  moment  was 
a  full  cup. 

With  a  low  laugh  they  crossed  the  door-step  together, 
and  saw  Roger  Prideaux  sitting  at  the  open  lattice.  He 
turned  to  them  a  face  full  of  affection,  but  they  knew 
that  they  had  come  to  a  sorrowful  hour.  Roger  was 
much  changed.  His  face  was  lined  with  thought  and 
suffering,  his  eyes  were  full  of  piercing  inquiries,  there 
was  a  lofty  scorn  of  all  human  ambitions  on  his  brow. 
He  talked  with  Nathaniel,  until  the  business  of  the  day 
was  over,  about  the  sufferings  of  the  Quakers  and  the 
rapid  increase  of  the  persecuted  sect. 

"But  I  have  preached  to  the  prisoners  and  the  op 
pressed  a  great  crusade,  Nathaniel,"  he  cried.  "  We 
are  going  to  America.  In  the  silent  forests  of  the  new 
land  the  world  has  yet  no  thoroughfare,  and  we  shall 
have  peace  and  freedom  to  worship  God." 


PARTING.  341 

"Indeed,  sir,"  replied  Nathaniel,  "I  have  heard  of 
strange  cruelties  practised  in  the  Plymouth  Colony,  and 
against  your  own  persuasion." 

"  We  shall  not  trouble  the  Plymouth  Colony,  and  we 
shall  do  well  and  be  happy.  The  men  who  have  gath 
ered  around  George  Fox  are  the  picked  men  from  all 
creeds,  —  the  men  who  desire  God  before  all  other  things, 
and  who  abhor  the  selfish  bargaining  with  priestcraft  for 
a  priceless  heaven.  And  in  this  matter  I  am  led  by  Best 
Wisdom ;  for  one  night,  as  I  pondered  in  my  heart  the 
right  way,  my  hand  turned  the  leaves  of  my  Bible,  and  I 
heard  the  Voice  say,  '  Read/  and  the  Book  was  open  at 
Ezekiel  the  thirty-fourth  chapter,  and  on  these  words  my 
eyes  fell :  — 

" '  And  they  shall  dwell  safely  in  the  wilderness,  and  sleep  in  the  woods. 
" '  And  I  will  make  theih  and  the  places  round  about  my  hill  a  blessing  : 
and  I  will  cause  the  shower  to  come  down  in  his  season  ;  there  shall  be 
showers  of  blessing. 

"  '  And  the  tree  of  the  field  shall  yield  her  fruit,  and  the  earth  shall  yield 
her  increase,  and  they  shall  be  safe  in  their  land,  and  shall  know  that  I  am 
'  the  Lord,  when  I  have  broken  the  bands  of  their  yoke,  and  delivered  them 
out  of  the  hand  of  those  that  served  themselves  of  them.' 

"  And  I  know,  Nathaniel,  that  these  words  shall  come 
to  pass ;  whether  I  live,  or  whether  I  die,  the  promise  is 
sure.  God  shall  give  unto  his  people  a  great  inheritance 
in  the  land  to  which  they  will  assuredly  go.  I  call  thee 
to  witness  my  words,  for  the  promise  is  true." 

Nathaniel  heard  with  a  sinking  heart,  and  when  they 
were  joined  by  Hannah  Mettelane  and  Olivia  he  was 
determined  to  know  how  far  this  contemplated  change 
would  affect  the  future  of  Olivia  and  himself.  She  sat 
by  her  father's  side,  and  Hannah  Mettelane  sat  near 
them  with  a  piece  of  sewing  in  her  hand.  Nathaniel 
stood  by  the  open  casement,  so  that  he  commanded,  as 
it  were,  the  situation. 


342  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Roger,"  he  said,  speaking  with  a  suddenness  that 
gave  to  his  voice  a  tone  of  disapproval  or  displeasure,  — 
"  Roger,  what  say  you  to  my  marriage  with  Olivia  before 
you  leave  England  ?  " 

"  Thou  hast  propounded  to  me  a  very  hard  question, 
Nathaniel,  but  't  is  one  that  must  be  speedily  answered  ; 
for  I  have  sold  Sandys,  and,  if  God  so  prosper  me,  I 
shall  leave  England  in  the  first  days  of  September." 

"  But  you  cannot  intend  to  take  Olivia  into  the  wilder 
ness." 

"  Canst  thou  truthfully  make  her  thy  wife  ?  What 
home  wilt  thou  take  her  to?  Art  thy  father  and  mother 
ready  to  welcome  her  as  their  daughter?  As  for  myself, 
I  put  my  claims  behind. thine.  I  am  going  to  a  strange 
country.  For  God's  sake,  or  man's  sake,  I  am  ready  to 
be  offered  up  in  service  of  any  kind." 

"Roger,  I  know  that  Nathaniel  Kelder  is  in  a  hard 
strait ;  his  affairs  cannot  be  hurried.  Let  Olivia  stay 
with  me." 

"  Nay,  sister  Hannah,  I  will  not  sanction  that.  There 
are  two  roads  of  duty,  straight  and  plain,  set  before  her. 
She  is  to  be  a  daughter  to  me,  she  is  to  share  my  trials 
and  comfort  my  sorrows ;  or  else  she  is  to  be  the  wife  of 
a  good  man,  and  the  mother  of  children." 

"  Between  two  ways,  brother,  there  is  often  a  middle 
way.  Let  Olivia  take  it." 

"  No,  no,  Hannah  !  That  nr'ddle  way,  neither  this 
thing  nor  that  thing,  was  the  sin  for  which  the  Laodicean 
church  was  cursed.  The  work  of  moderation  has  the 
wages  of  moderation.  My  child  shall  have  none  of  them. 
If  she  feel  it  to  be  her  duty  to  marry  Nathaniel,  let  me 
bless  her  in  it  and  go  on  my  own  way.  If  for  any  reason 
this  duty  is  not  clear  and  evident,  then  she  cannot  desert 
the  first  duty  of  her  life.  She  must  be  my  daughter,  or 


PARTING.  343 

she  must  be  Nathaniel's  wife.  Wouldst  thou  have  her 
sneak  out  of  a  hard  duty  and  hide  herself  in  the  covert  of 
Mettelane  until  she  can  reach  her  desire?  If  the  fruit 
she  wants  is  not  ripe,  wouldst  thou  have  her  to  sit  down 
under  the  tree  and  idly  wait  for  it,  or  wouldst  thou  say, 
'  Do  thy  manifest  and  manifold  duties,  and  in  full  time 
the  fruit  will  ripen  and  sweeten,  and  thou  mayst  lawfully 
and  truly  have  it '  ?  " 

"  Olivia  !  Olivia  !  "  Nathaniel  went  to  her  side  and 
took  her  hands.  "  Speak  for  me,  dear  heart.  Only 
you  can  know;  only  you  can  pity." 

She  lifted  her  face.  It  was  white  and  sad.  "Thou 
dost  not  suffer  alone,  Nathaniel.  But  Father  has  put  my 
duty  evidently  before  me,  —  this  way  or  that  way,  and  no 
easy  middle  way.  I  must  go  with  my  father,  for  thou 
art  not  free  to  marry  me.  I  have  seen  Lady  Kelder, 
and  I  know  that  her  heart  is  set  against  me.  But  some 
day  that  happens  which  has  been  long  waited  for,  and 
until  then  —  " 

"  To-night  we  will  have  no  decision.  There  must  be 
ways  and  means  to  bring  to  pass  my  desire.  I  ask  for  a 
few  hours,  Father,  —  for  you  have  given  me  so  much 
right  to  use  the  name,  —  a  few  hours  in  which  to  try  and 
bate  something  of  my  ill  fortune." 

"  If  thou  beg  me  by  that  name,  Nathaniel,  I  can  by 
no  means  hinder  thee." 

He  stayed  for  no  longer  parley ;  he  forgot  even  the 
slight  courtesies  of  leave-taking,  —  little  ceremonies 
always  respected  and  enjoyed,  —  and  in  less  than  ten 
minutes  they  heard  his  horse's  hoofs  beating  the  rocky 
road  to  Kendal.  He  changed  his  horse  there,  and  then 
hurried  on,  and  on,  past  Leavens  and  Arnside,  and  so 
into  the  lonely  region  of  Silverdale. 

Never  had  the  indifference  of  Nature  to  the  woes  of 


344  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

humanity  seemed  to  him  so  cruel.  In  the  soft  moon 
light  the  wide  landscape  lay  in  an  ineffable  pause,  as  if 
the  trees  and  fields  were  dreaming ;  while  the  steadfast 
hills,  like  a  vast  staircase,  went  up  and  up  to  the  clear 
skies.  But  his  soul  could  not  mount ;  she  trailed  her 
lagging  pinions  too  near  earth.  Seaward  there  was  a 
pulsating,  tremendous  vitality  that  oppressed  him,  and 
the  black  hull  of  a  fishing-boat,  tossing  and  wavering  like 
a  shadow  amid  uncertain  gloom  and  solemn  water,  was 
the  very  emblem  of  his  own  shadowed  and  anxious  life. 

He  had  not  taken  the  sea  into  his  calculations ;  in 
deed  he  had  forgotten  the  tide  until  he  came  to  Kelder 
Neck  and  found  the  little  isthmus  impassable.  His 
horse  was  then  too  weary  to  swim,  so  he  awakened  a 
farmer  living  near,  and  sought  shelter  until  daylight. 

Early  in  the  forenoon  he  reached  Kelderby.  His 
mother  heard  his  quick  step  on  the  flagged  halls,  and 
called  him  with  a  pleasant  recognition.  She  was  in  the 
still-room  with  Jael,  who  was  making  poppy-water  for  a 
weak  stomach.  The  long  deal  tables,  polished  with  oat 
meal  until  they  glistened  like  ivory,  were  covered  with 
bowls  and  bottles  and  platters  holding  their  special  cor 
dials,  sweet  waters,  mouth  pastilles,  odoriferant  balls, 
balsams,  and  electuaries ;  with  specifics  for  swooning  of 
the  head,  weakness  of  the  heart,  decay  of  the  spirit,  and 
the  coming  on  of  colds. 

"Well,  Nathaniel,  you  have  outrun  your  promise.  I 
looked  not  for  you  so  early.  Have  you  had  a  love  quar 
rel?  Is  there  any  new  matter  on  hand?  " 

"  Roger  Prideaux  has  sold  Sandys,  and  is  going  to 
America." 

"  'T  is  his  own  choice,  and  we  will  speak  of  happier 
things,  it  being  necessary  to  mingle  an  electuary  when 
one  is  in  a  good  spirit.  Jael,  give  me  the  honey  and  the 


PARTING.  345 

me,  and  then  see  if  there  be  a  fresh  trout  to  brown  for 
your  young  master." 

"  I  have  eaten  as  I  wish  to,  Mother,  and  I  want  instant 
speech  with  my  father." 

"  He  is  in  the  rose  walk ;  and  he  hath  a  pain  in  the 
head,  and  so  is  in  poor  condition  for  vexations,  —  if  you 
will  so  far  consider  his  infirmities." 

Nathaniel  glanced  inquiringly  at  the  slightly  offended' 
lady.  She  was  measuring  honey  and  rue  with  an  atten 
tion  which  appeared  to  dismiss  all  other  things,  and  the 
large  linen  apron  which  covered  her  dress,  and  her 
pinned-back  hood-strings,  gave  her  that  stern  look  of 
preoccupation  which  he  understood  was  to  be  respected. 
So  he  lifted  his  hat  to  her  and  went  into  the  garden. 

The  baron  was  walking  slowly  in  the  rose  alley.  He 
was  thinking  of  heavenly  things,  and  his  face  had  the 
rapture  and  peace  of  his  thoughts.  Nathaniel's  greeting 
was  therefore  a  slight  jar,  and  he  came  back  from  the 
Delectable  Mountains  to  Kelderby  with  an  effort  that  left 
a  wistful,  far-off  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  Father  !  " 

"  Well,  my  son,  I  am  here ;  though  I  confess  when  I 
was  not  here  I  was  in  a  better  place." 

"  Father,  the  pressure  of  my  conditions  must  excuse 
my  impatience,  for  I  am  in  a  great  strait,  and  I  look  to 
you  for  help  in  the  matter." 

As  he  was  speaking,  Lady  Kelder  came  fonvard.  She 
had  removed  her  apron,  and  was  smoothing  the  folds  of 
her  silk  dress  as  she  approached.  But  she  caught  the 
sense  of  Nathaniel's  words,  and  promptly  answered  them. 

"  Blessed  be  God  !  we  are  now  used  to  trouble,  Na 
thaniel,  specially  such  as  comes  by  the  Quakers'  road ; 
and  I  '11  warrant  you  have  found  the  '  great  strait '  there, 
or  nowhere." 


346  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"Mother,  'tis  no  longer  a  time  for  charges  and  re 
charges.  I  entreat  you  to  give  me  help  instead  of  words. 
Roger  Prideaux  goes  to  America  in  two  months,  and  if  I 
marry  not  his  daughter  he  will  take  her  with  him." 

"  You  will  take  your  father  and  me  to  heaven  by  exer 
cising  our  patience,  Nathaniel.  The  Prideaux  again  ! 
I  would  they  were  gone  to  America,  both  of  them,  a 
year  ago." 

Then  Nathaniel  turned  to  his  father,  and,  holding  out 
his  hands  with  supplicating  palms,  said,  "  Sir,  I  love  Mis 
tress  Prideaux.  I  must  marry  her,  or  I  marry  not  at  all. 
We  have  been  comrades  in  arms,  we  have  been  friends 
in  council,  we  have  been  father  and  son,  and  I  have 
truly  been  obedient  and  faithful  to  you  all  my  life.  I 
can  but  love  as  my  soul  loves.  Give  me  such  considera 
tion  as  you  are  able  to  in  my  trouble." 

"What  do  you  desire,  Nathaniel?" 

"  I  desire  to  marry  Olivia  Prideaux  ere  her  father  leaves 
England.  If  I  do  not,  then  I  must  dread  for  her  the 
ocean,  and  the  pirates  that  infest  the  ocean ;  and  if  she 
'scape  these,  you  know  well  what  brutal  entreaties,  what 
imprisonment  and  martyrdom,  everywhere  wait  for  those 
of  her  faith." 

"  The  very  treatment  they  deserve,  Nathaniel." 

"  Dear  mother —  " 

"  Nay,  then,  if  I  be  *  dear,'  let  me  speak  my  heart  to 
you.  Can  you  believe  that  I  have  the  grace  to  hear  a 
sermon  every  day  in  the  week  about  the  Prideaux?  I 
tell  you  if  there  were  none  of  the  name  in  the  world 
't  would  be  no  loss  to  me.  If  you  had  been  Saint  Paul, 
you  had  taken  the  Prideaux  for  a  text.  Your  father  and 
I  are  very  weary  of  all  concerning  them.  'T  is  a  great 
freedom  you  take,  sir;  and  I  bred  you  better,  had  not 
Mistress  Prideaux  spoiled  you." 


PARTING.  347 

She  stood  erect  and  quiet,  with  her  arms  folded  across 
her  breast,  a  very  noble-looking  woman,  with  the  fire  of 
what  she  believed  to  be  a  just  indignation  sparkling  in 
her  wide-open  eyes. 

The  baron  looked  at  her,  and  then  into  the  troubled 
face  of  his  son.  It  was  full  of  entreaty  and  suffering,  and 
he  found  it  hard  to  restrain  the  sympathy  it  asked  ;  but 
he  knew  that  concessions  affecting  the  happiness  or  misery 
of  domestic  life  must  not  be  lightly  made. 

"  Suppose  you  marry  Mistress  Prideaux,  what  then, 
Nathaniel?" 

"  Is  not  Kelderby  large  enough  to  shelter  my  wife, 
Father?" 

"  Ask  your  mother,  Nathaniel ;  she  was  not  against  the 
De  Burgs  coming  to  it,  if  their  necessities  had  driven 
them  so  far.  Also,  I  think  surely  that  the  girl  you  love 
is  a  good  girl,  and  very  fair,  and  like  to  have  both  hands 
full ;  for  Mistress  Mettelane  is  rich,  and  very  loving  to 
her  niece. 

"  What  is  all  this  to  you  and  me,  Baron  ?  If  Mistress 
Prideaux  got  all  that  Mistress  Mettelane  and  her  genera 
tion  are  worth,  I  should  like  her  none  the  better.  And 
were  Kelderby  one  hundred  times  as  large,  't  would  be 
too  small  to  shelter  Mistress  Prideaux  and  all  her  virtues. 
I  am  told  't  is  a  point  of  good  breeding  to  disguise  hand 
somely,  but  I  am  no  dissembler,  and  I  have  already  told 
Nathaniel  as  much  as  I  now  repeat." 

"Then,  Nathaniel,"  said  the  baron,  "there  is  no  more 
to  be  said  or  done." 

"  You  are  Baron  of  Kelderby,  Father,  and  I  am  your 
heir." 

"  Nathaniel,  all  the  right  I  have  in  Kelderby  I  gave  to 
Mistress  Joan  Singleton  when  she  took  me  for  her  hus 
band."  He  stepped  forward,  lifted  his  wife's  hand,  and 


348  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

touched  the  thread-like  band  of  gold  upon  its  third  finger. 
"  If  your  mother  is  willing  to  share  her  home  with  Mis 
tress  Prideaux,  I  am  also  most  willing.  If  she  is  not,  't  is 
indeed  far  beyond  my  inclination  to  make  her  less  than 
Lady  of  Kelderby." 

While  he  spoke  he  drew  Lady  Kelder  within  his  em 
brace.  Their  white  heads  touched  each  other,  and  there 
was  a  momentary  understanding  swift  as  thought,  pene 
trating  as  light.  For  love,  purified  by  age,  has  a  majestic 
tenderness  and  faithfulness,  and  Nathaniel  in  his  own 
anxiety  could  not  but  respond  to  his  father's  loyalty  and 
consideration. 

But  his  heart  was  too  full  to  speak.  He  stood  for 
a  moment  before  them  with  his  head  bared,  and  then 
hastily  retraced  the  walk  where  the  roses  laughed  and 
nodded  in  the  sunshine,  and  made  such  riot  of  sweet 
scent  that  he  ever  afterward  felt  the  smell  of  roses  when 
trouble  or  disappointment  was  to  face. 

Roger  had  had  no  hesitation  in  allowing  Nathaniel  to 
make  another  effort  to  conquer  his  mother's  prejudice, 
and  he  was  not  anxious  as  to  the  result.  He  knew  that 
Olivia  was  going  with  him,  having  such  knowledge  by  a 
source  as  much  beyond  explanation  as  it  was  beyond 
doubt.  And  as  the  days  and  weeks  wore  rapidly  away  — 
oh  !  so  rapidly  to  Nathaniel  —  Olivia  also  became  a  sharer 
in  her  father's  hopes  and  feelings ;  for  no  one  can  ha 
bitually  breathe  the  atmosphere  impregnated  with  a  great 
enthusiasm  and  not  catch  fire  from  it.  And  persecution 
had  turned  Roger  into  an  apostle.  All  the  energy  he  had 
once  thrown  into  the  making  of  gold  he  now  flung,  with 
an  almost  fanatical  abandon,  into  the  cause  of  the  perse 
cuted  Quakers.  Fines,  imprisonments,  floggings,  drove 
him  not  from  the  truth,  but  closer  to  it ;  and  so  strong 
were  his  appeals  that  Fox  called  him  "  a  great  hammer 


PARTING. 


349 


on  men's  consciences."  Even  Cromwell  had  felt  its 
weight,  for  Roger  had  not  hesitated  to  remind  him  that 
"  two  thousand  English  men  and  women  were  in  prison 
for  Christ's  sake ;  that  their  tears  had  been  as  water 
spilt  upon  a  rock ;  and  that  by  his  indifference  to  their 
sufferings  he  had  blown  the  fire  of  their  persecution." 

Olivia  could  not  remain  insensible  to  such  zeal  and 
fervour.  Truly  as  she  loved  Nathaniel,  she  loved  the  fair 
ideals  of  spiritual  life  better.  His  eager,  passionate,  sor 
rowful  wooing  touched  only  the  outer  sanctuary  of  her 
life ;  for  she  had  a  soul  that  had  never  quite  lost  its 
memory  of  the  skies,  whose  homing  instinct  was  so 
strong  that  when  the  cares  and  loves  of  earthly  life  cast 
her  out  of  hand  for  a  few  moments  its  flight  was  instantly 
heavenward. 

Life  at  Mettelane  farm  was  very  pleasant  to  the  girl, 
but  there  was  ever  before  her  inward  sight  a  far  grander 
scene  :  a  new  exodus ;  God's  people  coming  out  of  their 
prison-houses  by  hundreds  and  thousands,  and  going 
with  one  heart  to  make  homes  in  the  untrodden  forest. 
And  in  the  green  tabernacles  of  ancient  trees  she  antici 
pated  for  herself  communion  with  God  in  those  hidden 
exaltations  whose  blessedness  is  rather  surmised  than 
conceived. 

The  "  Good  Intent,"  which  was  to  carry  Roger  and  his 
small  colony,  was  to  sail  from  Plymouth  on  the  5th  of 
September,  or  earlier ;  and  toward  the  close  of  August 
Olivia  was  in  London  with  her  father.  She  had  left  the 
green  mountains  of  the  North  Country  far  behind,  and 
was  facing  with  a  calm  and  steadfast  soul  the  wide,  sepa 
rating  ocean  and  the  solitudes  of  the  unknown  world. 
Nathaniel  was  also  in  London;  for,  though  his  hopes 
were  growing  more  impossible  every  hour,  he  had  that 
desire  which  renders  will  indefatigable  and  love  everlast- 


350  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

ing,  —  which  is  the  earnest  of  possession,  the  aerial  road 
infallibly  leading  to  its  object.  Duty  might  delay,  years 
might  sunder,  but  such  love  as  his  would  not  be  prevenced. 
In  these  hours  of  parting  he  foresaw  the  hour  of  meeting ; 
and  in  his  heart,  emptied  of  all  present  joy,  hope  found 
the  more  room  for  a  vigorous  and  insistent  growth. 

Their  last  week  in  England  was  spent  at  the  Blue  Boar 
Inn ;  a  sad,  thoughtful,  anxious  week,  to  which  the  events 
of  the  time  lent  a  still  more  sombre  colouring.  The  Pro 
tector's  health  was  growing  constantly  worse,  and  the 
government  rested  upon  it.  Men  stood  talking  in  the 
streets,  or  in  their  shops,  about  subjects  nothing  related 
to  their  trades.  The  rumour  of  wars  and  changes  tingled 
in  every  ear ;  and  London  had  that  waiting  aspect  which 
touches  communities  as  well  as  individuals.  Strange 
portents  and  signs  filled  men's  hearts  with  a  fearful 
"  looking  forward ;  "  the  great  bells  of  churches  had 
been  tolled  by  invisible  hands,  and  gliding  ghosts  from 
the  waste  dominions  of  the  dead  had  been  seen  in  the 
desolated  galleries  of  Whitehall. 

The  night  before  they  were  to  leave  London  for  Ply 
mouth,  Olivia  and  Nathaniel  were  sitting  at  the  open 
casement  looking  down  into  King  Street.  Roger  was 
busy  writing  at  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  low,  darkish 
room.  No  one  was  speaking,  for  Nathaniel  could  not 
say  what  he  wished  to.  He  sat  with  wide,  tearful  eyes, 
holding  Olivia's  hand.  Roger  was  also  silent,  but  he  was 
very  restless,  and  gave  Nathaniel  the  idea  of  a  man  watch 
ing  for  some  one.  Just  at  dark  the  door  opened  and 
George  Fox  entered. 

He  came  in  with  a  blessing  on  his  lips,  and  laid  a 
large  folded  parchment  before  Roger.  The  action  had 
a  movement  of  triumph  in  it,  and  Roger's  face  bright 
ened  as  he  took  Fox's  hand  and  said  in  a  glad  voice,  — 


PARTING.  351 

"George,  this  is  a  great  thing.  I  feared  thou  hadst 
failed,  for  the  favour  is  a  large  one  indeed." 

"  And  I  think  it  is  the  last  loving-kindness  Oliver  will 
ever  show  us.  God  remember  him  in  all  his  afflictions  !  " 

"  Is  he  then  so  very  ill?  " 

"  He  is  nigh  unto  the  grave.  I  went  to  Whitehall 
about  thy  matter  ten  days  ago,  and  found  John  Owen 
there  with  Oliver,  and  we  had  some  talk  together  of  the 
Inward  Light,  which  John  Owen  totally  disallowed." 

"What  said  Cromwell?" 

"  He  grieved  me  much,  for  he  spoke  not  reverently, 
and  sat  upon  the  table  swaying  his  booted  legs,  while 
he  made  jokes  little  like  him,  or  like  the  matter  in 
hand.  'T  was  a  mirth  beside  the  real  man,  and  I  knew 
not  what  to  think  of  it,  and  so  came  away  greatly 
grieved." 

"  I  have  heard  that  from  childhood  he  hath  been  pos 
sessed  at  intervals  by  this  mocking  spirit,  and  that  when 
it  leaves  him  he  is  ever  in  the  depths  of  despair  and 
gloom." 

"  Yesterday  he  sent  for  me,  and  he  spoke  like  himself, 
and  promised  me  the  parchments  this  morning;  and  so 
to  Hampton  Court  I  went  for  them." 

"Well,  then?" 

"  The  Secretary  Thurloe  put  them  into  my  hand  after 
some  waiting ;  but  as  I  stood  in  the  path  of  the  Park  this 
afternoon  I  saw  Oliver  in  his  coach,  a  weary,  sorrow- 
laden  man  indeed.  And  as  I  gazed  I  was  awestruck,  for 
I  saw  and  felt  a  waft  of  death  go  forth  against  him,  and 
when  I  came  to  him  he  looked  like  a  dead  man ;  and  I 
cried  out,  '  Farewell  to  thee,  Oliver  ! '  and  he  stayed  his 
coach  and  spoke  to  me  of  thy  affairs,  and  said  he  would 
put  in  order  the  business  relating  to  the  Friends  im 
prisoned  for  conscience'  sake ;  and  so  with  a  mournful 


352  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

face  he  passed  onward.     But  I  judge  him  to  be  but  a 
dead  man." 

"  He  hath  had  many  warnings  lately  to  put  his  house 
in  order  and  render  up  his  stewardship.  The  landlady  of 
this  inn  hath  a  strange  story  of  a  man  who  met  him  near 
by  ;  indeed  't  was  just  here."  And  Roger  led  Fox  to  the 
window  and  pointed  out  a  cobbler's  shop.  "  Thee  seest 
that  dark  door  by  the  side  of  it.  Oliver  was  coming  down 
this  street  at  the  noon  hour,  and  there  was  a  great  crowd, 
and  he  was  locked  in  by  it  just  at  that  door.  And  as  he 
waited  the  door  opened,  and  out  of  it  came  a  man,  gigan 
tic  in  form,  and  covered  with  mail  that  shone  so  that  no 
mortal  eyes  could  look  steadily  at  him.  Only  many  saw 
a  sword  lifted  up,  which  seemed  to  strike  Cromwell,  and 
heard  a  '  call,'  an  unfathomable  voice  far  off,  yet  near,  in 
some  distant  world,  yet  close  at  hand,  cry, '  Hark,  Crom 
well  !  Cromwell,  come  hither ;  thou  art  wanted."  And 
those  at  hand  heard  Cromwell  ask,  'Who  art  thou?' 
and  after  a  short  space  he  said,  '  It  is  well ; '  and  the 
crowd  dispersed,  and  he  went  onward  with  a  white,  sol 
emn  face,  and  't  is  said  he  spoke  to  none  for  two  days 
afterward. 

"I  have  heard  often,  George,  that  when  Oliver  was 
but  a  lad,  a  man  of  wondrous  size  and  clad  in  shining 
mail  parted  the  curtains  of  his  bed  at  midnight  and  told 
him,  not  that  he  should  be  king,  but  that  he  should  be 
the  greatest  man  in  England." 

"  Among  the  hosts  of  God  in  heaven  Oliver  has  doubt 
less  many  kindred  to  his  soul." 

"  And  what  then,  George?  " 

"  Such  kindred  are  very  close  to  us,  and  if  we  will 
listen  they  will  speak." 

Then  Fox  kissed  and  blessed  Olivia,  and  turning  to 
Roger,  said  in  a  cheerful  voice,  "  We  will  part  like  men 


PARTING.  353 

who  trust  in  God,  Roger  •  for  we  know  in  whom  we  have 
believed.  And  surely  what  the  doleful  Jeremiah  said 
in  the  pit  we  can  say  in  the  sunshine  :  '  There  is  none 
like  unto  Thee.'  "  And  his  clear  voice  had  in  it  a 
contagious  heat  which  made  their  hearts  burn  within 
them. 

So  Fox  went  away,  but  at  the  door  he  looked  back, 
and  his  face  was  so  luminous  with  hope  and  blessing 
that  it  left  a  sense  of  radiance  where  he  had  stood. 
Even  when  the  door  was  shut,  and  the  darkness  had 
again  covered  the  place,  his  bright,  brave  countenance 
seemed  to  have  impressed  so  vivid  a  reflection  on  the 
atmosphere  that  Olivia's  soul  thrilled  to  the  picture  of 
what  it  imaged.  For  miracles  are  within  us,  and  not 
without. 

The  next  day  being  Wednesday  they  went  to  Ply 
mouth,  where  it  was  supposed  they  might  have  to  wait 
until  the  following  Monday.  But  on  Thursday  evening, 
just  at  sunset,  Roger  entered  the  room  where  Olivia  and 
Nathaniel  were  sitting,  and  there  was  the  light  and 
strength  of  some  new  purpose  on  his  face.  He  went 
straight  to  them,  and  taking  Olivia's  hand,  said,— 

"  The  hour  has  come,  my  daughter.  All  is  ready,  and 
John  Woodhouse  waits  for  us  with  his  hand  upon  the 
anchor." 

"  Roger !  " 

"  Father  !  " 

"Even  so,  Nathaniel,  and  wisely  so.  Help  Olivia 
with  thy  strength,  and  do  not  weaken  her  with  thy 
sorrow." 

Then  all  stood  up  together.  Olivia  stretched  out  her 
hand  for  her  hood  and  cloak,  and  Nathaniel  silently 
brought  them.  He  tied  the  little  black  hood  under  her 
chin,  and  clasped  her  cloak  round  her  throat,  and  kissed 

23 


354  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

again  and  again  the  dear  face,  which  in  its  sombre  set 
ting  had  a  startling  pallor  and  pain.  Neither  of  them 
uttered  a  word.  Pity  and  consolation  were  out  of  place 
in  the  presence  of  such  sorrow ;  for  had  Nathaniel  been 
dressing  Olivia  for  her  burial  he  could  have  been  no 
more  hopeless  and  heart-broken. 

Roger  walked  before  them  through  the  narrow,  busy 
streets  of  the  town,  carrying  such  light  luggage  as  had 
not  been  put  on  the  ship  at  London.  Olivia  and 
Nathaniel  followed  him.  Sailors  with  their  lasses  on 
their  arms  were  filling  the  evening  air  with  rude  laughter 
and  ruder  song ;  children  were  playing  in  the  wider 
spaces ;  housewives  stood  in  the  doors  of  their  houses 
gossiping  with  their  neighbours ;  men  sat  smoking  be 
fore  the  ale-houses,  talking  of  the  Protector's  sickness, 
and  the  likelihood  of  another  war.  And  no  one  gave 
more  than  a  passing  notice  to  the  sorrowful  couple  going 
so  swiftly  and  silently  down  to  the  Long  Wall,  at  which 
the  "  Good  Intent  "  lay  waiting. 

She  was  a  Whitby  boat,  built  for  the  Newfoundland 
fishing,  and  her  captain,  John  Woodhouse,  was  one  of 
Roger's  converts.  Her  crew  were  all  Quakers,  and  her 
passengers,  five  men  and  four  women,  were  exiles  for  the 
same  faith.  John  Woodhouse  looked  at  Nathaniel  with 
a  slight  astonishment,  and  when  he  found  he  did  not 
intend  to  share  their  voyage  he  told  him  very  plainly 
that  wind  and  tide  waited  for  no  man ;  "  and  both  are 
now  for  us,  young  sir ;  and  so  if  thou  wilt  step  on  land 
quickly  we  will  lift  our  anchor,  and  away  westward  in 
God's  name." 

It  was  well  that  all  had  been  said  many  times  over 
that  could  be  said.  There  was  now  neither  space  nor 
solitude  for  private  sorrows.  Nathaniel  wrung  Roger's 
hands,  and  then  looked  at  Olivia.  She  cast  down  her 


PARTING. 


355 


eyes  and  shook  her  head  pitifully ;  and  then,  forgetting 
all  the  world  but  Nathaniel,  she  clasped  her  arms  around 
his  neck  and  laid  her  lips  against  his.  They  could  not 
even  say  each  other's  name.  Feeling  had  lost  language, 
and  their  dumb  grief  tore  and  lacerated  their  hearts, 
seeking  for  some  audible  expression.  For  one  supreme 
moment  they  suffered  as  spirits  suffer;  then  Olivia's 
clasp  loosened,  her  hands  dropped  downward ;  with  a 
great  sob  she  turned  to  her  father,  and  fell  faint  and 
trembling  on  his  breast. 

The  old  man  was  weeping  for  her.  He  positively, 
though  gently,  motioned  Nathaniel  away;  and  John 
Woodhouse,  taking  his  arm,  led  him  to  the  narrow  plank 
which  he  was  waiting  to  withdraw.  Thus,  blind  and 
dumb  and  dazed  with  anguish,  he  stumbled  to  the  sea 
wall,  and  leaning  upon  it,  watched  the  lifting  of  the 
anchor  and  the  sailing  of  the  "  Good  Intent."  The 
wind  filled  the  canvas  as  soon  as  it  was  spread,  and 
Olivia  came  to  the  stern  of  the  vessel  and  stretched  out 
her  arms  to  Nathaniel  in  a  last  farewell.  They  had  loos 
ened  her  hood  while  she  was  struggling  with  uncon 
sciousness,  and  she  held  it  in  her  hand.  Her  face  was 
yet  clear  to  him ;  he  thought  she  smiled ;  he  felt  some 
thing,  he  knew  not  what,  of  hope  and  promise  in  her 
attitude ;  and  he  stood,  bareheaded,  watching,  watching, 
watching,  until  the  gray  figure,  in  the  gray  evening,  was 
no  longer  distinguishable.  Then  over  the  shaded  ocean 
rushed  the  night,  and  the  white  wings  of  the  ship  carried 
her  into  the  profundities  and  mysteries  of  the  sky  line. 
The  tide  was  going  out  like  a  mill-race,  the  wind  rising 
rapidly;  in  ten  minutes  the  "  Good  Intent  "  was  out  of 
sight,  —  and  where  was  the  land  ? 

But  great  sorrows  have  the  privilege  of  their  greatness, 
and  Nathaniel,  alone  in  his  room  with  his  sorrow,  learned 


356  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

the  marvellous  prayer  of  the  breaking  heart,  —  that  cry 
which  brings  the  Comforter  out  from  his  sanctuary.  He 
received  that  gift  of  tears  which  consoles  the  burning 
drought  of  the  wounded  soul  with  its  blessed  rain. 

He  did  not  return  at  once  to  Kelderby.  The  great 
Protector  lay  dying,  and  he  could  not  bear  to  desert 
London  in  the  solemn  watch  the  weeping,  fearful  city 
was  keeping.  And  suddenly  there  began  to  blow  such  a 
hurricane  as  England  never  witnessed,  either  before  or 
since.  Throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 
seas  and  skies  were  in  an  inconceivable  anarchy  and 
tumult.  Furious  winds  tore  up  forests  by  the  roots,  and 
unroofed  and  destroyed  multitudes  of  homes.  In  the 
north  it  had  a  demoniac  fury ;  and  Kelderby,  upon  its 
rocky  eyry,  was  smitten  on  every  side.  But  Kelderby 
was  well  builded,  and  it  took  the  blows  without  wincing. 
Lady  Kelder,  silent  and  awestruck,  wandered  from  room 
to  room  with  the  prayer  of  supplication  on  her  lips. 
The  baron,  watching  the  dreadful  majesty  of  the  billowy 
clouds,  felt  in  his  inmost  soul  a  hope  that  it  was  the 
storm  heralding  the  ineffable  peace  of  the  millennium. 
In  speechless  reverence  he  waited  for  the  dawning. 
Surely  it  would  bring  the  shining  of  His  face  ! 

At  Chenage  the  storm  broke  with  terrific  destruction. 
The  farm  offices  were  mostly  levelled  within  the  first 
hour,  and  the  ancient  trees  lay  piled  like  barriers  around 
the  house.  Anastasia  had  arrived  in  the  oppressive  heat 
and  gloom  of  the  previous  day.  She  was  not  usually 
affected  by  atmospheric  influences ;  but  the  weight  and 
darkness,  the  electric  tension,  the  awful  stillness,  the  wan 
glare  on  the  horizon,  and  the  boding  colour  and  dread 
ful  look  at  the  zenith,  made  her  restless  and  fearful.  It 
was  impossible  to  escape  the  warning  written  in  the  air 
and  on  the  sky,  and  she  wandered  from  window  to 


PARTING. 


357 


window  watching  the  paths  which  led  from  the  sea  to 
the  grange. 

Just  as  the  tempest  blotted  out  with  passionate  fury 
the  space  between  earth  and  sky,  she  saw  a  man  racing 
through  the  driving  rain  and  gathering  winds.  She  had 
the  gates  flung  wide,  and  she  stood  trembling  within  the 
shaky  shelter  of  the  house  until  he  pushed  the  door  open 
and  took  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  John,  John  !  "  She  said  the  words  in  her  heart, 
and  John  read  them  in  her  eyes.  But  to  the  servants 
she  cried  with  a  sharp  imperativeness,  — 

"  The  best  room  for  Captain  Latour ;  and  clothes  from 
the  awmrie  in  the  oak  chamber ;  and  see  that  supper  is 
on  the  table  in  fifteen  minutes." 

Little  she  cared  now  for  the  roaring  wind  and  the 
rain  lashing  the  house  like  whip-thongs.  John  was  safe. 
As  the  steward  uncorked  the  Burgundy,  and  the  cook 
brought  in  the  chief  dish,  John  entered  the  room.  He 
had  on  one  of  Chenage's  finest  velvet  suits,  and  he 
directed  Anastasia's  eyes  to  it  by  his  look,  by  his  walk, 
by  the  air  of  satisfaction  and  amusement  with  which  he 
stroked  the  velvet  sleeve  and  twirled  the  ribbon  at  his 
wrist. 

"  Tt  becomes  me  well  enough,"  he  said,  looking  steadily 
into  her  eyes. 

"  I  thank  my  stars  you  are  in  it,  and  not  —  the  other. 
How  he  used  to  strut  when  he  put  it  on  !  I  fall  a- 
laughing  when  I  think  on  it.  Eat  and  drink,  John. 
Faith,  this  house  is  yours,  and  all  that  is  therein." 

"  A  nice  lonely  place  it  is.  You  could  play  the  devil 
here,  Asia,  and  neither  man  nor  devil  find  you  out." 

"At  this  present,  I  assure  you,  every  servant  is  at  my 
disposal ;  and  I  have  been  so  wise  as  to  quarrel  with  all 
my  acquaintances.  Remember  you  are  Captain  Latour, 


358  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

on  his  Majesty's  business,  —  God  bless  the  king  !  His 
name  covers  many  affairs  he  knows  nothing  of.  Lord, 
but  the  wind  blows  !  I  vow,  I  am  afraid  of  it.  Hark, 
how  the  trees  are  crashing  !  'T  will  be  a  miracle  if  the 
house  endures.  John,  I  am  frightened." 

"  No  wonder.  I  never  heard  a  more  devilish  pother. 
I  wish  I  was  in  mid-ocean  all  trig  and  tight.  Then  I 
would  enjoy  such  a  passion  of  wind.  I  would  be  lashed 
to  the  wheel,  and  buffet  the  bully.  Lord,  Asia  !  I  have 
been  out  in  winds  that  you  could  lean  against,  as  if  they 
were  a  wall.  I  have  heard  them  shriek  curses  into  my 
ears,  and  given  them  a  full  tale  back  again.  I  would 
rather  fight  a  mad  wind  than  a  Spanish  slaver ;  I  swear  I 
would  !  " 

He  was  looking  at  Anastasia  with  a  kindling  face  as  he 
spoke,  taking  in  with  a  sense  of  satisfaction  the  beauty  of 
her  person,  the  elegance  of  her  dress,  the  pallor  of  her 
face ;  for  he  liked  to  feel  that  she  feared  where  he 
exulted.  The  sense  of  superiority  was  necessary  to  the 
development  of  John  de  Burg's  amiability. 

"  There 's  a  shriek,  Asia ;  a  shriek  from  some  poor 
devil  on  that  bare,  blasted  moor  outside." 

"  It  is  inside  ;  the  woman  I  told  you  about,  —  Audrey." 

"Is  she  really  mad?  or  even  mad  nor'-nor'-west?  " 

"  Mad  at  all  points,  and  however  the  wind  blow.  I 
wanted  something  to  do  this  afternoon,  and  I  went  to 
her  and  helped  her  to  reckon  over  her  sins.  Mad  !  She 
spit  at  me  like  a  she-devil.  Mad,  of  course  !  No  woman 
in  her  senses  would  have  found  out  the  truth,  but  Audrey 
told  me  the  all  of  it  this  afternoon." 

"Then  she  is  dangerously  mad?" 

"  Ay,  extremely  so." 

She  looked  inquisitively  at  John.  She  was  anxious  to 
know  several  things  he  could  tell  her,  but  she  was  aware 


PARTING. 


359 


that  John  would  speak  only  in  his  own  way  and  at  his 
own  time.  Besides,  the  servants  were  passing  in  and  out, 
and  their  conversation  was  necessarily  broken  and  min 
gled  with  many  formalities  and  political  allusions. 

As  dinner  progressed  the  storm  increased  until  conver 
sation  became  difficult.  John  bent  over  the  hearth,  and 
smoked  in  silence.  Anastasia  watched  him  from  the 
couch  on  which  she  lay.  She  was  white  and  trembling 
with  fear  and  anxiety.  She  was  cold  also,  for  the  rain, 
pouring  down  the  wide  chimney,  had  put  out  the 
fire. 

"  Better  so,"  muttered  John.  "  This  wind  would  blow 
the  fire  over  the  room.  We  are  not  ready  to  burn  the 
house  yet.  I  am  just  planning  for  many  a  jolly  day  in  it. 
I  told  him  I  was  coming  here.  I  told  him  I  was  coming  to 
drink  his  wines,  and  wear  his  clothes,  and  collect  his  rents. 
He  did  not  like  it.  He  went  into  a  damnable  passion ; 
he  ought  to  have  known  better  by  this  time." 

" Then  he  still  lives?     Oh,  John,  John  !  " 

"He  lives  for  me,  not  for  you." 

"  I  want  to  be  free  !  I  want  to  be  free  !  When  will 
you  set  me  free?" 

"  When  does  Roger  Prideaux  sail  ?  " 

"  He  has  already  sailed." 

"That  angel  Olivia,  —  is  she  with  him?" 

"Yes." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Never  trust  me  if  I  tell  you  not  the  truth." 

"  The  name  of  the  ship  ?  " 

"The  'Good  Intent.'" 

"  Very  good.  'T  is  contrary  to  my  humour,  but  you 
shall  be  free  ere  I  take  the '  Good  Intent.'  Roger  Chenage 
must  not  be  on  the  same  ship  as  Roger  Prideaux.  If  you 
want  to  marry  Southport,  put  him  off  for  six  weeks,  and 


360  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

then  make   yourself  Countess  Anastasia.     It  will   be  a 
legal  marriage  by  that  time." 

"What  will  you  do  with  Prideaux?  " 

"  Concern  not  yourself  with  the  matter.  Have  you 
found  out  what  money  he  will  have  with  him  ?  " 

"  The  price  of  Sandys,  at  least.  Seven  other  Quakers 
go  with  them.  All  have  money;  three  of  them  have 
wives." 

"  Faith,  I  have  no  objection  to  either  the  money  or 
the  women." 

"As  to  Saint  Olivia,  John?  " 

"  I  shall  marry  her." 

"John!" 

"  With  your  gracious  leave." 

She  laughed  with  a  mirthful  wickedness.  "  It  pleases 
me  mightily.  When  the  bride  is  won,  send  me  the  news 
and  a  garland." 

The  last  words  were  hardly  distinguishable  in  the  ter 
rific  roaring  of  the  wind.  It  was  the  reasonable  wind 
gone  mad,  and  howling  in  its  lunacy  with  all  the  myriad 
shrieks  it  knew.  John  lifted  his  head  to  listen.  Anas 
tasia  drew  her  mantle  close  around  her  throat  and  cow 
ered  among  the  pillows  of  the  sofa.  Suddenly  there  was 
a  cry  more  awful  than  that  of  any  wailing  or  shouting  of 
the  wind,  —  a  cry  of  despairing  humanity  for  salvation  ; 
and  ere  it  died  away  it  was  lost  in  the  crash  of  falling 
masonry. 

Anastasia  leaped  to  her  feet.  A  mortal  terror  was  in 
her  face,  though  her  tongue  refused  to  speak.  The  next 
moment  the  servants  rushed  into  the  room,  and  John 
faced  them  with  an  angry  calmness. 

"  What  a  parcel  of  craven  rogues  you  be  !  Do  you 
think  the  Devil  has  come  for  you  ?  Get  me  a  lantern." 

"  Mistress,  't  is  the  west  wall  and  chimney  —  the  poor 


PARTING.  361 

mad  woman  !  'T  was  her  death  cry.  Indeed  it  was  !  " 
The  speaker  was  the  house-steward  Jervis,  and  John 
answered  him  sternly,  — 

"  Then  get  a  lantern,  and  go  with  me  to  find  her." 

"  Captain,  I  dare  not  go  out  this  night.  Ten  thousand 
devils  are  abroad.  I  will  die  under  cover." 

"  You  are  a  fool !     Bring  me  a  light." 

His  face  was  lowering  and  scornful,  and  it  terrified  the 
trembling  servants  more  than  the  storm  did.  They  went 
back  to  the  kitchen  like  animals  whipped  past  some  ter 
rifying  object.  In  a  few  minutes  Jervis  returned  with  the 
lantern,  and  sobbing  with  terror ;  yet  not  daring  to  refuse 
the  imperious  motion  of  John's  hand,  he  was  forced  to 
accompany  him  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

Anastasia  stood  by  her  sofa,  resting  one  hand  upon  it, 
and  listening  intently.  If  it  was  the  west  wall,  where 
was  Audrey?  She  had  been  chained  to  it.  Had  she 
gone  down  with  it?  If  so,  she  was  doubtless  killed. 
The  thought  was  a  relief.  Revenge  is  sweet  only  in  its 
first  moments,  and  there  is  no  escaping  its  consequences. 
Audrey  had  become  an  anxiety.  She  dared  not  free  the 
woman.  She  would  talk.  She  would  rouse  suspicions. 
She  would  invent  accusations.  In  short,  she  might  make 
unknown  trouble,  She  had  wished  Audrey  dead  very 
often;  what  if  the  storm  had  really  killed  her?  She 
asked  herself  the  question  with  a  good  deal  of  honesty. 

"  I  shall  be  hugely  obliged  to  it,"  she  answered  the 
spirit  within  her ;  and  while  she  was  musing  on  the 
probability,  John  returned  to  the  room.  Something  in 
his  face  satisfied  her  before  he  spoke. 

"The  west  wall  has  indeed  fallen,  Mistress  Chenage, 
and  also  the  chimney  built  against  it.  Jervis  tells  me  that 
a  poor  servant  who  was  mad  must  have  gone  with  it." 

"  Poor  Audrey  !     Have  you  not  tried  to  reach  her  ?  " 


362  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  'T  is  impossible,  Mistress  !  Nothing  could  live  a 
moment  in  this  storm.  Audrey  is  dead,  and  't  is  a  mercy 
to  her.  Mistress,  she  was  mad  as  a  March  hare." 

"  Find  out  whether  she  is  certainly  dead.  Take  your 
fellows,  and  make  it  certain." 

"God's  pardon  for  all,  Mistress.  It  would  be  self- 
murder.  We  should  be  mad  as  the  mad  woman  to  try  it." 

"  You  are  a  cruel  lot  of  varlets.  Go  and  drink  some 
more  beer,  and  try  not  to  die  of  fright  ere  the  daylight 
come." 

She  spoke  with  a  withering  scorn,  and  the  man  slunk 
out  of  her  presence.  Anger,  shame,  and  a  certain  feeling 
of  injustice  blended  with  his  terror,  but  he  was  too  slavish 
to  analyze  his  feelings  ;  he  preferred  to  do  as  his  mistress 
had  divined  he  would  do,  —  bury  them  in  a  beer  jack. 

When  they  were  alone,  Anastasia  turned  quickly  to  her 
brother.  "  Are  we  in  any  danger? " 

"  Seriously,  none  at  all.  The  west  rooms  are  evidently 
a  later  addition.  This  portion  of  the  house  is  as  solid  as 
the  hills  around  it.  I  '11  wager  my  ship  that  old  beldam 
is  out  of  life." 

"  I  am  glad  on  it." 

"  Take  some  wine.  To  say  truth,  you  are  liker  a  ghost 
than  I  care  to  see."  He  himself  then  drank  a  goblet 
of  Burgundy,  and  wrapping  his  cloak  around  him,  he  sat 
down  by  his  sister's  side. 

"Asia,  as  soon  as  daylight  breaks  I  shall  go.  I  like 
not  the  land.  There  are  a  thousand  dangers  on  it  that 
never  put  out  to  sea.  Anon  will  come  the  coroner,  and 
men  and  women  with  him,  and  I  will  stand  question  from 
no  man." 

"  John,  take  this  from  me.  In  a  little  while  you  shall 
fear  a  question  from  no  man.  Old  Noll  lay  dying  when 
I  left  London.  I  have  been  twice  to  Paris  this  year,  and 


PARTING.  363 

I  tell  you  very  frankly  the  king  is  most  entirely  my  ser 
vant.  At  my  next  going  I  will  bring  back  with  me  a  full 
reversal  of  all  acts  against  you." 

"  Faith,  I  think  what  I  have  done  against  Noll's  gov 
ernment  may  balance  what  injury  Carolus  Rex  had  to 
complain  of." 

"  I  '11  swear  it,  twenty  times  over.  And  you  shall  have 
a  captaincy  in  the  navy,  if  you  lean  that  way." 

"  Not  I.  I  '11  take  a  license  as  a  privateer,  and  give 
you  a  thousand  pounds  for  it.  Asia,  get  me  all  you  say, 
and  it  is  two  thousand  pounds  for  it." 

"  And  then,  John,  you  can  come  when  and  how  you 
like  to  see  me,  and  what  else  you  desire." 

"  I  can  pay  a  few  debts  I  owe.  I  can  fight  to  better 
purpose  when  I  fight  openly.  I  can  even  follow  Nutt's 
example,  and  play  the  devil  at  sea,  and  build  me  a  fine 
house  on  shore,  and  go  to  church,  and  wear  white  linen." 

"And  marry  a  saint." 

He  laughed,  but  there  was  a  tone  in  the  laugh  Anas- 
tasia  did  not  like.  Was  it  possible  that  her  brother  was 
really  in  love  with  the  Quaker  girl  ?  How  she  hated  her  ! 
Then  she  let  her  thoughts  wander  into  all  sorts  of  unholy 
suppositions,  —  the  probable  fate  of  Olivia,  her  own  cer 
tain  release  from  Audrey,  her  contemplated  traffic  with 
the  king ;  and  as  she  mused  she  regained  her  usual  bold 
reliance  upon  herself  and  her  fortune. 

John  was  employed  in  much  the  same  manner.  Folded 
in  his  cloak,  he  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  room, 
stopping  frequently  at  the  table  to  fill  his  glass  with  the 
rich  red  wine  and  silently  drink  it.  And  still  the  wind 
shrieked,  and  the  rain  beat  the  house  on  every  side  ;  and 
still  on  the  mad  gusts  were  brought  the  despairing  cries  of 
dogs  and  horses  only  partly  sheltered,  and  now  and  then 
the  sound  of  crashing  timber. 


364  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Hour  after  hour  wore  away  in  such  desultory  conversa 
tion  and  thoughtful  pauses.  The  room  grew  very  cold  as 
the  night  wore  on,  and  the  guttering  candles  made  only 
a  fitful  light.  Toward  the  morning  John  said,  — 

"  The  wind  will  go  seaward  with  the  out-going  tide. 
You  may  sleep  now.  In  an  hour  or  two  I  shall  make 
for  the  coast.  My  ship  is  in  a  land-locked  harbour,  but 
she  must  have  suffered.  When  do  you  go  to  London?  " 

"  As  soon  as  may  be.  'T  is  a  time  when  moments 
may  change  lives,  and  my  father  will  be  most  impatient 
at  my  absence." 

"How  fares  De  Burg?" 

"Well.  He  hath  lacked  nothing  in  the  Tower  but 
freedom  ;  and  I  trow  he  thinks  as  he  will,  though  he 
cannot  do  as  he  will." 

"  How  takes  he  your  widowhood  ?  " 

"  With  a  great  contentment.  The  thought  of  Appleby 
puts  him  ever  in  a  fury  of  hatred,  and  I  think  he  would 
certainly  forgive  you  all,  if  he  but  knew  all." 

"  I  want  not  his  forgiveness.     Speak  nothing  of  me." 

She  was  standing  with  her  face  raised  to  his.  All  men 
must  have  something  to  love,  and  John  had  no  kindred 
but  his  sister.  He  drew  her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  her 
with  a  great  affection.  He  thanked  her  for  all  that  she 
had  done,  and  all  she  intended  to  do ;  he  assured  her  of 
her  real  freedom,  and  bade  her  farewell  with  a  genuine 
emotion.  When  she  left  the  room  he  followed  her  into 
the  hall,  and  watched  her  pretty  figure  slowly  climbing 
the  steep  stair  in  the  wavering  feeble  light  of  the  shaded 
candle  which  she  carried.  Her  long  robe  of  velvet 
trailed  far  behind ;  her  dark  cloak  was  drawn  close 
round  her  throat.  And  when  he  called  again,  "  Farewell, 
Asia  !  "  she  turned  and  faced  him,  and  her  face  shone 
clear  and  fair,  and  she  kissed  her  white  hand  to  him  as 


PARTING.  365 

he  stood  in  the  gloom  below.  Then  he  went  back  into 
the  room  with  a  sob  in  his  throat  and  a  warmth  at  his 
heart  which  made .  him  straighten  himself  and  ask 
hopefully,  — 

"  Well,  then,  what  next?  " 

He  drew  his  brows  together  and  set  himself  intently 
to  think  out  his  course.  He  expected  his  own  ship  to 
be  more  or  less  injured  by  the  wind,  but  the  "  Good  In 
tent  "  was  only  a  merchant  vessel,  and  all  merchant  vessels 
were  slow  and  heavy  in  comparison  with  his  own  ;  for  in 
her  everything  had  been  sacrificed  to  speed.  Even 
though  he  had  been  delayed  beyond  his  intention,  he  was 
certain  of  overtaking  his  prize.  He  had  the  whole  At 
lantic  before  him.  He  did  not  intend  to  molest  the 
"  Good  Intent  "  until  she  was  near  the  American  coast. 
In  his  mind's  eye  he  saw  the  precise  locality  in  which 
the  meeting  would  suit  him  best,  and  he  resolved  to 
steer  directly  for  it. 

At  dawn  the  wind  had  lulled  considerably,  but  the  day 
was  stormy  enough,  and  his  own  horse  had  been  injured 
during  the  night.  He  had  the  best  the  stable  afforded,  and 
in  the  first  shivering  daylight  he  passed  beyond  the  gates 
of  Chenage.  "The  king's  business  is  urgent,'1  he  said, 
as  he  gave  the  hostler  his  fee ;  and  he  was  conscious 
of  a  great  relief  when  the  iron  gates  clashed  behind  him. 

"  'T  is  a  cursed  hole  to  stay  in,"  he  muttered  ;  "  and 
I  wish  to  the  Devil  Asia  were  out  of  it." 

But  Asia  did  not  find  it  prudent  for  some  days  to  show 
hurry  in  the  matter.  Audrey's  death  caused  some  un 
pleasant  talk.  It  was  remembered  that  Mistress  Chenage 
had  said  all  the  servants  had  been  discharged,  and 
people  were  curious  enough  to  wonder  why  nothing  had 
been  said  of  Audrey's  lunacy.  However,  Anastasia  told 
her  story  well  at  the  inquest,  and  her  servants  confirmed 


366  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

all  she  chose  to  say.  The  country  was  tossed  upside 
down  with  the  storm,  and  men's  hearts  were  trembling  in 
that  sough  of  evil  rumour  which  affirmed  more  positively 
every  hour  that  the  great  Protector  was  dead. 

Three  days  after  this  event  was  certain,  she  found  it 
convenient  and  possible  to  return  to  London  with  all 
speed.  At  the  small  village  of  Hayburn,  about  twenty 
miles  south  of  Kelderby,  she  stopped  to  bait  her  horses. 
As  she  sat  at  the  open  window  of  the  inn  a  young  man 
rode  up  to  the  door.  It  was  Nathaniel  Kelder.  She 
watched  him  dismount,  and  as  he  stamped  his  numb  feet 
upon  the  flags  of  the  court  she  told  herself  that  he  was 
by  all  odds  the  handsomest  lover  she  had  ever  had.  She 
could  not  resist  the  passionate  desire  she  felt  to  speak  to 
him,  though  his  face  was  full  of  sorrow  and  thought,  and 
his  manner  grave  and  preoccupied. 

A  sudden  plan  came  into  her  mind,  and  without  a  mo 
ment's  hesitation  she  called  him,  Her  voice  was  low 
and  full  of  remorseful  inflections.  Nathaniel  approached 
the  window,  and  this  time  he  removed  his  hat  for  a  mo 
ment  as  he  stood  before  her. 

"Nathaniel,  I  am  a  very  unhappy  woman.  I  have 
done  wrong,  but  't  was  out  of  my  love  for  you,  and  I 
pray  you  forgive  me  !  " 

He  looked  at  the  penitent  doubtfully.  Her  eyes  were 
downcast,  tears  were  slowly  overflowing  them  ;  her  whole 
aspect  was  mournful  and  humble.  She  put  out  her  hand 
timidly,  and  then,  sighing,  slowly  withdrew  it.  Her  ex 
periences  at  Chenage  had  worried  and  wearied  her ;  she 
had  not  dressed  herself  for  conquest ;  on  the  whole,  she 
had  the  appearance  of  veritable  contrition. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Nathaniel.  To  say  truth,  I  am  heart 
broken.  Forgive  me  !  I  make  it  a  case  of  conscience 
to  you." 


PARTING.  367 

There  was  a  slight  hesitation  in  Nathaniel's  manner, 
but  after  it  he  spoke  with  a  singular  gentleness,  — 

•'  I  am  glad,  my  cousin,  to  hear  your  speech.  God 
pardon  you,  as  I  do  also.  And  indeed  I  am  most  sure 
that  even  those  whom  you  have  injured  will  be  very  for 
giving  to  you  ;  Olivia  —  " 

"  I  ask  not  her  pardon,  sir ;  yours,  and  yours  only. 
Nathaniel,  't  was  my  love  for  you  that  led  me  so  far." 

"  Mistress  Chenage,  it  becomes  not  you  to  speak  such 
words,  nor  yet  me  to  listen  to  them.  I  pray  you  excuse 
me." 

"  You  shall  hear  me,  Nathaniel." 

"  I  crave  your  pardon,  Mistress." 

"  Call  me  '  Asia.'  " 

"The  time  for  that  has  passed  away.  You  are  the 
wife,  or  the  widow,  of  another  man.  I  am  the  promised 
husband  of  another  woman." 

"Of  Olivia  Prideaux?" 

He  bowed,  and  a  bright  flush  overspread  his  face. 
For  a  moment  his  whole  appearance  changed. 

"  Do  you  think  I  discovered  my  faults  to  you  for  this 
piece  of  news  ?  Let  me  tell  you  soberly  I  am  sorry  for 
nothing  that  I  have  done.  I  shall  make  haste  to  do  still 
more  evil  to  that  —  woman  !  that  preaching  woman  !  I 
will  have  her  ruined.  I  will  have  her  killed.  Do  you 
hear,  sir?  You  are  the  most  ill-bred  man  in  England. 
You  are  —  "  she  suddenly  ceased.  Nathaniel  had  passed 
out  of  her  sight,  out  of  the  sound  of  her  railing.  What 
had  she  done  ?  Humbled  herself  for  nought.  "  Oh,  oh, 
oh  !  "  She  stamped  her  foot,  and  struck  her  hands  to 
gether,  and  bit  her  fingers  in  her  chagrin  and  anger. 

On  Nathaniel  the  encounter  made  a  most  unpleasant 
impression.  But  there  was  one  comfort,  —  he  was  near- 
ing  home ;  and  never  had  the  thought  of  his  father's 


368  FRIEA'D   OLIVIA. 

counsel  and  his  mother's  love  been  more  welcome.  It 
was  yet  afternoon  when  he  arrived  there.  His  first 
glance  at  the  old  house  was  full  of  fear,  but  he  smiled  at 
the  fear  the  next  moment.  The  storm  had  not  injured  a 
flag  of  it,  yet  the  number  of  ancient  trees  lying  prostrate 
told  him  something  of  its  severity.  There  was  so  much 
to  tell  that,  as  he  sat  and  talked,  the  daylight  waned,  and 
Jael  brought  in  the  lights  and  the  last  meal.  And  she 
looked  at  the  three  serious  faces  on  the  hearth  and  won 
dered  what  new  sorrow  Nathaniel  had  brought  back  with 
him. 

"Go  from  home  he  will,"  she  said  fretfully  to  herself; 
"  and  God  knows  them  that  wander  get  many  a  gliff  of 
sorrow.  But  Nathaniel  Kelder  must  outside,  and  no  wall 
high  enough  to  hinder." 

His  sad  face  made  her  "  fit  to  cry ;  "  and  Lady  Kelder 
took  advantage  of  the  comfortable  sympathy  to  let  a  few 
drops  down  fall  over  her  perplexities  and  anticipations. 
She  was  sitting  before  the  fire  in  her  own  room,  and  Jael 
was  slowly  combing  and  brushing  her  long  white  hair. 

"  Cromwell  dead  !  And  only  God  Almighty  knows 
what  is  to  come  after,  Jael." 

"  He  went  his  way  in  a  great  storm,  my  Lady,  'T  is 
said  the  Devil  raised  it,  disputing  about  his  soul;  a 
mighty  whaff-whaft,  truly." 

"Wherein  was  his  soul  so  special,  Jael?  If  the  Devil 
took  his  own  in  tempests,  God  knows  there  would  be 
neither  seed-time  nor  harvest  for  good  men.  The  storm 
broke  three  days  before  Cromwell's  death,  and  he  went 
away  in  the  afternoon  sunshine ;  and  moreover,  a  great 
rainbow  spanned  Whitehall  while  he  lay  a- dying.  My 
son  Nathaniel,  who  saw  it,  surely  ought  to  know." 

"Well,  my  Lady,  I  stand  in  hand  to  side  with  you 
always.  But  Joe  Milman,  he  says  Minister  Duttred  made 


PARTING.  369 

a  great  matter  of  the  storm.  He  told  how  the  Devil  dis 
puted  with  angels  about  the  body  of  Moses,  and,  said  he, 
more  likely  about  the  soul  of  Cromwell ;  for  at  a  good 
man's  death-bed  Satan  must  roar,  or  forever  hold  his 
peace.  And  roar  he  did,  my  Lady,  both  on  sea  and 
land." 

"  And  yet  for  all  he  roared  to  a  cross  purpose,  Jael. 
Cromwell  cared  not  for  the  storm,  but  lay  in  peace  all 
through  it.  Faith,  we  are  more  out  of  pocket  than 
Cromwell  was  out  of  heart.  Twenty  cottages  unroofed 
in  the  upper  village,  and  in  lower  Kelderby  the  sea  in 
possession  total.  If  't  was  indeed  the  Devil's  doing,  why 
did  he  not  unroof  Whitehall?  A  sore  miss,  Jael.  He 
came  not  nigh  his  dying-bed ;  't  was  too  well  guarded. 
Little  wit  has  the  great  Devil.  Had  he  put  Elizabeth 
Cromwell  in  a  fretful,  fearful  temper  at  her  husband's 
bedside,  she  would  have  done  his  spiteful  errand  for 
him." 

"  Well,  my  Lady,  I  pray  he  give  not  us  some  shrewd 
parting  blow  at  the  last  hour." 

"  Never  fear  him.  If  our  souls  are  in  God's  keeping, 
God  must  be  wounded  ere  we  can  be  prejudiced.  'T  is 
not  death,  but  life,  that  is  the  hard  battle.  If  Richard 
Cromwell  keep  not  hold  of  the  sceptre,  —  and  Richard 
Cromwell  is  a  simpleton,  —  then  Kelderby  stands  in  the 
wind  of  Charles  Stuart's  say-so.  And  what  is  to  become 
of  us?  We  cannot  beg;  the  baron  is  too  old  to  work." 

"  Be  as  brave  for  life  as  for  death,  my  Lady  !  The 
God  that  feeds  the  ravens  will  not  starve  the  Kelders. 
And  Master  Nathaniel  —  " 

"  Master  Nathaniel  is  wholly  and  most  perversely 
taken  up  with  that  Quaker  girl.  I  thank  God  she  is  now 
far  on  the  Atlantic  Ocean. y 

"  My  Lady,  if  Master  Nathaniel  would  but  stay  quiet 
24 


3/0  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

in  Kelderby  !  It  takes  a  long  time  for  trouble  to  find  a 
man  out  in  his  own  home.  On  the  king's  highway  any 
turn  may  bring  them  together." 

"  You  speak  truth,  Jael.  Had  he  been  at  Kelderby, 
he  had  not  met  Mistress  Chenage  to-day,  and  then  no 
bad  words  had  been  between  them.  If  Charles  Stuart 
comes  back,  she  moves  him  at  her  pleasure,  —  so  't  i? 
freely  said.  An  ill  woman  to  quarrel  with." 

"  An  ill  woman  to  be  friends  with  ;  say  that,  my  Lady. 
And  as  for  holding  Kelderby  at  any  one's  pleasure,  I 
trust  you  know  better  than  that.  There  is  One  that 
orders  both  kings  and  women.  I  would  n't  be  put 
about  for  nothing.  And  it  is  ill  luck  to  speak  of  ill. 
My  mother  used  to  say  to  me,  '  Jael,  my  lass,  say  no 
ill  of  the  year  till  the  year  be  past.'  " 

"  Well,  well !  Put  down  the  blind,  Jael,  and  let  me 
sleep,  and  so  forget  for  a  little  that  I  live.  Surely  we 
shut  our  bedroom  door  and  rehearse  death  every  night." 

"  I  know  not,  my  Lady.  Sleep  has  its  own  life.  Will 
dead  folks  dream?  " 

She  was  pulling  down  the  blind  as  she  spoke,  and 
she  paused  in  the  act,  and  looking  upward  said  softly, 
"  There  's  a  fine  new  moon,  God  bless  her ! " 


XVIII. 

JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE. 

"  Do  darkness  and  terror  plot  against  you  ? 

We  also  plan. 

They  that  love  you  are  stronger  than  your  haters ; 
Trust  God,  O  man  1  " 

"He  kept  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye." 
"  Deep  calleth  unto  deep." 

ICWEN  in  Cromwell's  time  the  Quakers  were  remark- 
*+*  able  for  their  commercial  integrity  and  prosperity. 
They  succeeded  in  business  just  as  the  Puritans  suc 
ceeded  in  war.  Carnal  traders  were  as  inferior  to  them 
as  Rupert's  dragoons  were  to  Cromwell's  Ironsides.  For 
it  is  the  natural  consequence  of  a  life  divided  sharply 
into  two  halves,  spiritual  and  secular,  to  incline  those 
who  so  divide  it  to  a  methodical  strictness  in  the  inferior 
sphere.  Commercial  energy  and  rectitude  is  the  earthly 
expression  of  spiritual  energy  and  sincerity ;  opposite 
sides  of  the  wheel,  truly,  but  having  a  point  of  union  in 
the  centre. 

Roger  Prideaux's  heart  was  burning  with  love  to  God 
find  sympathy  for  God's  oppressed  children ;  and  from 
this  very  intensity  of  spiritual  regard  sprang  a  solicitude 
and  care  as  to  their  earthly  welfare  which  was  almost 
minute  in  character.  The  ship,  the  captain,  the  crew, 
the  provisions,  every  item  concerning  the  proposed  exile, 
was  settled  with  all  the  prudence  and  consideration  of  one 


372  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

who  believed  the  steps  of  a  good  man  to  be  "  ordered," 
and  who  desired  to  second  and  follow  that  ordering. 

God  works  in  man  but  not  instead  of  him,  he  said ; 
and  he  had  waited  for  the  promptings  of  this  Divine 
Guide,  listening  for  direct  mandates,  doing  nothing  till 
"  led,"  walking  only  as  the  way  opened.  His  first  inten 
tions  had  been  toward  Boston,  but  he  had  seen,  in  a 
vision  of  fire,  "the  intolerant  city,"  and  heard  a  voice 
say,  "  Go  to  the  southward ;  "  and  immediately,  being 
thus  warned,  he  had  turned  his  thoughts  to  the  Dutch 
plantation  of  New  Amsterdam. 

As  far  as  possible  all  human  precautions  for  safety  had 
been  taken.  The  paper  which  Fox  had  brought  from 
Cromwell  was  a  safe  warrant  to  pass  through  the  New 
England  settlements  and  buy  land  and  reside  thereon, 
and  his  former  business  relationships  had  enabled  him 
to  send  the  main  portion  of  the  moneys  belonging  to 
himself  and  his  friends,  through  letters  of  credit,  to  the 
governor  of  New  Amsterdam.  The  western  sea  was 
infested  with  pirates,  and  with  privateers  little  better 
than  pirates ;  and  he  thought  it  well  to  pass  through  it 
in  a  condition  of  poverty  which  offered  nothing  to  pro 
voke  their  cupidity  or  their  cruelty. 

They  left  London  on  the  last  day  of  August,  —  a 
company  of  five  men  and  four  women ;  the  latter  being 
Olivia  Prideaux,  Mary  Woodhouse,  the  wife  of  the  cap 
tain,  and  Anna  Copeland,  who  was  going  on  a  mission 
as  the  Lord  should  direct  her.  The  "  Good  Intent "  was 
a  stanch  ship,  manned  by  godly  men,  and  she  went  gal 
lantly  out  with  a  fair  wind  blowing. 

For  many  weeks  the  voyage  was  an  exceptionally 
pleasant  one.  Several  of  the  party  had  just  been  re 
leased  from  dark  and  noisome  prisons ;  their  wrists  and 
ankles  still  kept  the  mark  of  the  irons,  and  on  their 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  373 

bodies  were  the  cruel  tokens  of  the  scourge.  The 
boundless  freedom,  the  fresh  winds,  the  peace,  the 
safety,  the  rapture  of  their  private  communion,  the  re 
freshment  of  their  mutual  worship,  set  every  heart  to  a 
song  of  joy  and  praise  ;  and  the  words  of  their  salutation 
were,  "  It  is  good  to  be  here." 

Only  Olivia  had  an  occasional  air  of  sadness.  She 
could  not  forget  her  last  parting  with  her  lover.  The 
noble  restraint  of  his  grief;  his  hopeful  words;  the  tears 
that  blinded  his  last  gaze  into  her  face ;  the  sad  smiles 
with  which  he  brightened  their  last  words ;  the  lingering 
clasp  of  his  hands ;  his  tall,  mournful  figure  turning  so 
reluctantly  away,  —  all  these  appeals  to  her  memory  re 
called  a  thousand  other  incidents  still  more  tender. 

She  was  very  quiet,  and  she  sat  much  alone.  She  had 
moments  or  repining  at  her  lot,  and  then  hours  of  bitter 
sorrow  for  them.  She  was  fighting  a  harder  battle  than 
any  of  the  martyrs  around  her  had  fought,  for  it  is  easier 
to  endure  than  it  is  to  resign.  She  believed  that  God 
had  said  to  her,  "  Give  me  thy  heart ;  put  out  of  it  all 
lesser  loves ;  "  and  she  was  trying  to  obey  him. 

"  Trust  in  God.  He  is  but  proving  thee.  At  the  last 
he  will  give  thee  the  desire  of  thy  heart."  Such  comfort 
her  father  offered  her,  but  she  could  not  take  it. 
Olivia's  aspiration  of  a  divine  obedience  touched  a 
higher  key;  she  would  not  render  God  a  resignation 
which  was  grounded  upon  a  hope  of  future  self-happi 
ness.  -She  sought  after  that  self-abnegation  which  finds 
in  the  act  of  utter  surrender  its  highest  joy. 

And  when  the  soul  is  forced  solely  in  one  direction,  it 
gains  new  powers  in  that  direction.  Dead  to  earth, 
earth  vanishes  to  it,  and  heaven  is  really  begun.  These 
days  of  calm  summer  sailing  upon  sunny  seas  were  days 
of  inward  struggle,  of  spiritual  defeats  and  victories,  to 


3/4  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Olivia.  There  was  no  wonder  that  she  was  silent,  and 
that  her  soul  in  the  neighbourhood  of  eternities  had  a 
seriousness  beyond  the  issues  of  time. 

One  day,  after  a  week  of  exquisite  weather,  the  little 
congregation  on  the  "  Good  Intent "  met  on  deck  in  the 
midst  of  a  hot,  languorous  haze.  The  clouds  hung  low 
and  gray.  The  ocean's  leaden  colour  was  broken  only  by 
those  long  lines  of  pale  light  often  seen  at  sea  before  an 
electric  storm.  The  gloom  of  thunder  was  in  the  air. 
For  two  days  a  ship  had  been  in  their  wake.  It  still 
hovered  on  the  horizon,  looking,  through  the  hazy  light, 
like  a  gigantic  phantom  in  its  winding-sheet.  The  infi 
nite  solitude  of  the  colourless  waste,  the  silence,  the  heavy 
depressing  atmosphere,  affected  the  most  cheerful  of  the 
party.  There  was  a  dead  calm.  Every  one  was  sensi 
ble  of  the  warning  written  in  the  air,  and  on  the  seetta 
ing  sea,  and  on  the  brooding  sky. 

The  captain  stood  by  the  wheel,  his  large  blue  eyes 
gazing  steadily  into  the  horizon.  All  at  once,  as  if  by 
magic,  the  wind  rose,  and  the  ship  in  their  wake  was 
plainly  seen  to  be  bearing  down  on  the  "  Good  Intent." 

"  She  is  a  slaver  or  a  pirate,"  said  the  captain ;  "  the 
kind  are  familiarly  known  to  me.  As  matters  now  stand 
it  is  like  to  be  a  fight  or  a  ransom." 

"  Thou  knowest  well  we  cannot  fight,  John  Wood- 
house." 

"  It  seemeth  just  and  reasonable,  Roger,  to  defend  the 
ship ;  not  a  year  ago  I  did  it,  and  saved  many  lives." 

"  Different  now,  John.  Thou  hast  learned  a  higher 
lesson.  Canst  thou  overcome  evil  with  evil?" 

"I  have  sailed  my  ship  for  fifteen  years;"  and  he 
gazed  sadly  upward  to  her  tapering  spars. 

"John,  when  Christ  disarmed  Peter,  he  disarmed  every 
one  calling  themselves  Christians.  Wilt  thou  take  a 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  375 

sword  in  thy  hand  when  thou  art  forbidden  even  to  go 
to  law?" 

About  three  in  the  afternoon  the  ships  were  within 
speaking  distance,  and  Olivia  standing  by  her  father's 
side  watched  the  movements  of  the  men  on  deck. 

"There  is  John  de  Burg,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  It  must  be  his  ship,  Father.  Do  not  leave  me ;  "  and 
she  slipped  her  hand  into  his.  "  Whatever  happens,  — 
life  or  death,  —  do  not  leave  me.  There  are  worse 
things  come  to  women  than  death." 

The  ships  were  now  close  together,  and  a  rattling  shot 
suddenly  fired  across  the  bows  of  the  "  Good  Intent "  was 
a  command  Captain  Woodhouse  could  not  mistake.  He 
stood  midship,  a  big  upright  figure  in  the  precise  plain 
coat  and  tall  hat  of  his  day,  and  he  answered  the  shot 
by  a  sharp  call,  — 

"What  dost  thou  want? " 

"  Alongside." 

The  answer  was  returned  with  a  curt  authority  that 
demanded  either  a  prompt  obedience  or  a  prompt  re 
sistance  ;  and  obedience  of  this  kind  was  a  new  lesson 
to  John  Woodhouse.  He  made  so  little  haste  that  the 
order  was  repeated  with  blasphemous  force. 

"  Thou  must  submit  to  circumstances,  John.  Fear 
not.  God  will  direct  them." 

But  John  looked  at  Roger  with  a  resentful  acqui 
escence.  He  longed  for  the  arms  he  had  not  brought 
with  him.  In  a  few  minutes  the  "  Good  Intent "  lay  along 
side,  and  the  grappling-irons  secured  her  unwilling  com 
pany.  As  the  two  vessels  came  together  with  a  slight 
shock  John  de  Burg  and  his  lieutenant  Pastro  leaped 
upon  the  deck  of  the  "  Good  Intent."  John  was  dressed 
with  a  brutal  carelessness,  —  his  legs  naked  to  the  knees, 
the  sleeves  of  his  waistcoat  turned  up  to  his  shoulders, 


3/6  FRIEND   OLIVIAi, 

and  his  red,  hairy  chest  showing  behind  his  open  shirt. 
Upon  his  head  he  wore  a  Turkish  fez,  — a  covering  famil 
iar  enough  now,  but  at  that  day  associated  with  outrage 
and  piracy  and  all  the  crimes  of  heathendom. 

In  the  act  of  leaping  he  saw  Olivia,  and  with  an  inso 
lent  politeness  he  lifted  his  scarlet  cap  and  vowed  she 
was  handsomer  than  ever,  and  that  he  was  vastly  glad  to 
see  her.  And  as  he  spoke  his  fierce  black  eyes  were 
roving  over  the  ship,  though  he  was  uncomfortably  con 
scious  of  the  resolute  look  with  which  Roger  Prideaux 
was  regarding  him. 

"  I  am  truly  sorry  to  meet  thee  again  in  such  ill  fash 
ion,  De  Burg.  I  thought  better  of  thee  at  Sandys." 

He  did  not  answer  Roger,  but,  calling  the  captain,  in 
an  imperative  voice  demanded  of  him,  — 

"  What  ransom  will  you  pay  for  yourself  and  your  ship  ?  " 

"  I  will  ransom  my  whole  company,  or  I  will  share 
their  fate." 

"  Mistress  Prideaux  is  beyond  ransom.  I  have  not 
followed  her  over  the  Atlantic  to  sell  her.  She  will  give 
me  her  hand,  and  so  save  the  life  of  her  father." 

"  Roger  Prideaux  will  hold  his  life  at  no  such  shame 
ful  price." 

"  Roger  Prideaux  cannot  help  himself." 

Then  Olivia  looked  at  him  steadily.  "John  de  Burg," 
she  said,  "  once,  for  God's  sake,  we  saved  thy  life.  If 
thou  hast  forgotten  the  grace,  God  will  remember." 

"  Ah,  my  sweet  beauty,  have  you  yet  to  learn  how  far 
off  God  Almighty  takes  himself  when  he  is  wanted?  " 

"  He  is  a  very  present  help." 

"  He  will  need  to  be,  I  assure  you  !  " 

He  spoke  passionately,  and  as  he  did  so  turned  to 
Captain  Woodhouse.  "  Ransom  your  ship  at  four  thou 
sand  pounds,  or  she  goes  to  the  bottom." 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE,  377 

"  I  have  not  four  thousand  pence." 

"  What  moneys  have  your  passengers?  " 

"About  one  hundred  pounds." 

"  Damnation  !  Will  one  hundred  pounds  pay  me  ? 
I  trow  not.  I  will  sell  all  of  you  to  the  Norfolk  planta 
tion.  You  are  felons,  thieves,  and  the  like ;  fit  for 
nothing  but  to  be  flogged  through  the  tobacco  field." 

"  We  are  honest,  God-fearing  men ;  exiles  for  faith 
and  conscience." 

"  Faith  and  conscience  !  You  are  a  pack  of  rogues 
and  scoundrels,  and  you  shall  be  sold  as  such.  Let  me 
look  at  the  women  :  reasonably  pretty,  eh,  Pastro?  We 
can  give  them  a  free  passage,  I  think." 

"  My  captain  is  too  good  to  them." 

Then  De  Burg  turned  to  Prideaux.  "Friend  Roger, 
I  hear  you  have  the  price  of  Sandys  with  you.  I  want 
it." 

"  I  have  not  a  penny  of  it  by  me." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  it?  " 

"  It  is  beyond  thy  touch." 

"  Have  you  sent  it  by  letter?  " 

"  Yea,  by  letter." 

"Answer  me  to  the  purpose.  For  every  answer  that 
is  aside  from  it  I  will  fling  one  of  your  number  into  the 
sea.  Pastro,  the  captain  will  go  first." 

Then  John  Woodhouse  said  in  a  clear,  brave  voice, 
"  Roger,  answer  nothing  that  seems  wrong  to  thee.  I 
fear  neither  death  nor  what  comes  after  death." 

"To  whom  did  you  send  the  money?  " 

"  To  Peter  Stuyvesant,  Governor  of  New  Amsterdam." 

"How  much?" 

"  Six  thousand  pounds  of  my  own  money." 

"  How  much  that  is  not  your  own  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  thee  that." 


378  FRIEND  OLIVIA: 

He  made  a  movement  of  his  head,  and  Roger~saw 
that  John  Woodhouse  was  in  danger. 

"  Stay  !  "  he  cried.  "  There  are  five  thousand  pounds 
belonging  to  those  with  me." 

"  Eleven  thousand  pounds  in  all.  You  shall  give  me 
your  evidence,  and  you  shall  write  a  letter  authorizing 
me  to  collect  this  money." 

"  I  will  not  do  so  wickedly.  What  say  you,  Friends  ? 
Will  you  give  your  money  to  serve  the  Devil  with,  and 
also  your  bodies  into  slavery?  " 

There  was  a  momentary  inquisition,  and  Roger  saw 
his  answer  in  every  face. 

"  I  will  give  thee  no  such  authority." 

"Then  I  will  hang  you  at  the  yard-arm;  and  I  will 
make  of  your  daughter  a  thing  too  vile  for  life." 

Roger  turned  to  his  daughter.  Her  face  was  lifted 
above  its  natural  poise,  and  her  tall,  slight  figure  had  a 
superlative  dignity  as  she  answered  his  look  of  question 
ing  anguish :  "  Father,  thou  must  do  right.  There  is 
none  that  can  make  me  vile." 

"  I  will  give  you  three  minutes  to  decide." 

During  this  conversation  an  ominous  silence  and 
gloom  had  been  gradually  gathering.  The  wind  had 
fallen  as  suddenly  as  it  had  risen.  A  fierce,  breathless 
heat  brooded  over  the  dark  sea.  The  black  clouds  were 
like  a  roof  of  hot  iron  above  them.  The  company  of 
the  "Good  Intent  "  stood  each  a  little  apart.  In  that  su 
preme  moment  there  was  only  One  to  whom  they  could 
appeal.  Olivia  was  at  her  father's  side ;  she  was  hold 
ing  his  hand,  but  that  was  only  a  symbol.  Through  the 
darkness  and  terror  she  was  feeling  for  the  hands  upon 
the  palms  of  which  her  name  was  graven,  —  the  Almighty 
hands,  which  'could  bring  salvation. 

De  Burg  walked  from  the  mainmast  to  the  capstan, 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  379 

where  he  stood  insolently,  with  his  foot  against  the  an 
chor  chain.  And  in  that  interval  Olivia's  soul  had  tra 
versed  the  sidereal  spaces,  and  in  a  momentary  calenture 
of  faith  and  love  refuged  herself  and  her  companions 
in  the  care  of  the  Omnipotent. 

Neither  had  the  men  Friends  been  indifferent  to  their 
position.  A  glance  full  of  intelligence,  passing  like  a 
flash  from  face  to  face,  informed  each  soul  with  the  same 
purpose.  They  had  no  weapons,  they  would  not  fight ; 
but  in  the  arms  of  every  father  and  husband  who  stood 
there  was  the  glow  of  a  strength  which  would  not  suffer 
a  finger  to  be  laid  upon  their  dear  ones.  They  were 
ready  at  a  word,  a  movement,  to  stand  as  a  living  wall 
before  them ;  quite  ready  and  willing  to  put  both  De 
Burg  and  Pastro  back  upon  the  deck  of  their  own  ship. 

The  moments  so  pregnant  with  emotion  and  decision 
to  the  human  element  were  also  moments  of  preponder 
ating  gravity  for  the  position  of  the  two  ships.  The 
storm  was  gathering  with  such  rapidity  that  De  Burg 
waited  not  his  own  span  of  delay.  He  looked  impera 
tively  at  Roger,  and  cried,  "  Go  quickly  !  Write  me 
the  order  on  Peter  Stuyvesant." 

"I  will  not." 

"  A  rope  and  a  noose,  Pastro.  As  for  you,  my 
beauty  —  " 

"You  shall  not  touch  me.     God  is  between  us." 

"  Faith  !  he  must  step  aside,  then." 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  as  if  to  embrace  her ;  his 
fierce  eyes  were  fixed  greedily  upon  her  person ;  but  at 
the  same  moment  a  flash  of  vivid  lightning  tore  apart 
the  black,  low-hanging  clouds,  and  as  De  Burg  essayed 
to  move  he  fell  like  one  dead. 

Then  Pastro  sprung  to  his  side,  and  with  a  great  cry 
lifted  the  limp,  nerveless  body,  and  leaped  with  it  into 


380  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

De  Burg's  own  ship.  Fortunately,  the  movement  was 
an  incredibly  swift  one;  for  as  he  did  so  the  sea  rose, 
not  in  waves,  but  as  if  lifted  bodily  upward  in  one  black, 
tremendous,  heaving  mass.  The  grappling-irons  parted 
like  straws.  The  ships  were  driven  far  asunder.  Then 
the  wind  begar.  to  blow  as  if  by  signal.  In  a  moment 
it  was  a  hurricane,  and  the  lightning  flash  which  had 
smitten  De  Burg  was  but  the  preluding  one  of  a  storm 
that  tore  the  heavens  with  an  incessant  fire ;  while  the 
thunder,  and  the  roar  of  the  wind,  and  the  mighty  sigh 
ing  of  the  great  surges,  made  a  noise  that  beat  with 
deafening  reverberations. 

But  amid  all  the  clamour  of  the  elements  there  was 
peace  in  the  little  cabin  of  the  "Good  Intent."  And 
when  the  storm  was  over,  there  was  not  a  sign  of  their 
enemy.  The  next  morning  they  were  under  blue  skies, 
a  soft  wind  was  blowing,  and  the  sharp  savour  of  salt  in 
the  air  was  blended  with  sweet  scents  from  the  nearing 
land.  That  day  a  bird  rested  upon  their  rigging,  and 
told  them  in  a  sylvan  song  that  he  was  scarce  a  day's 
flight  out  of  the  woods.  And  so  it  proved ;  for  within 
thirty  hours  they  touched  Long  Island,  and  found  a 
shady  creek,  into  which  they  entered  with  great  joy. 

The  following  day  Roger,  accompanied  by  John  Wood- 
house,  went  over  to  New  Amsterdam  to  see  the  gover 
nor.  They  found  him  walking  in  the  garden  of  his 
handsome  house  at  the  Whitehall,  and  easily  arranged 
with  him  the  business  relating  to  the  transfer  of  the 
moneys  in  his  charge.  He  had  no  suspicion  that  his 
visitors  were  Quakers.  Their  dress  was  not  in  that  day 
remarkable  ;  and  the  use  of  "  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  was 
familiar  to  all  Dutchmen,  who  thought  in  Dutch  and 
translated  their  thoughts  into  English. 

But  as  soon  as  Roger  began  to  speak  of  buying  land 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  381 

and  forming  a  settlement  of  refuge  for  the  persecuted 
people  of  God,  Stuyvesant  answered  him  angrily.  He 
was  then  in  dispute  with  the  New  England  colonies  on 
a  question  of  boundary,  and  anxious  to  avoid  an  appeal 
to  arms ;  and  Captain  Willett,  a  persecuting  magistrate 
of  Plymouth,  was  at  that  very  time  in  New  Amsterdam 
regarding  the  matter.  Now,  Captain  Willett  had  one 
idea  in  his  diplomatic  mission,  —  the  conversion  of  Stuy 
vesant  to  the  cruel  policy  of  Massachusetts  with  regard 
to  the  Quakers. 

This  policy  was  in  direct  contravention  to  the  express 
orders  of  the  colonial  proprietaries  and  the  universal 
feeling  of  the  people  ;  nor  were  injustice  and  intolerance 
personally  besetting  sins  of  the  clever,  mercenary  Hol 
lander.  He  had  been  nursed  and  reared  in  the  land 
of  religious  liberty ;  and  in  his  heart  he  was  angry  at  the 
necessity  for  conciliating  Captain  Willett,  and  at  the 
Quakers  for  being  the  occasion  of  a  violation  of  his 
principles.  For  if  a  man  have  a  conscience,  he  hates 
not  only  the  sin  he  commits,  but  also  they  by  whom  the 
offence  comes ;  and  Stuyvesant,  forced  by  political  con 
siderations  into  the  position  of  a  persecutor,  had  ended 
by  hating  the  Quakers  as  the  cause  of  his  own  injustice. 

He  turned  with  a  dark  face  to  Captain  Woodhouse 
and  said,  "  You  have  brought  here  a  ship  ;  that  is  your 
affair.  By  bringing  Quakers  in  it  you  have  made  the 
ship  and  all  the  merchandise  in  it  forfeit ;  that  is  my 
affair." 

"  Is  that  the  law  of  New  Amsterdam  ?  We  knew  it 
not." 

"  To  be  ignorant  of  law  is  not  to  be  innocent.  Make 
short  work  of  your  departure.  There  are  twelve  hours 
given  you  for  it.  As  for  thee,  Master  Prideaux,  mind 
thy  own  business,  and  meddle  not  with  our  religion. 


FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

Remonstrants  are  usually  atheists.  A  man  should  be 
satisfied  with  the  religion  of  his  country ;  when  he  trav 
els  about  for  religion,  he  is  a  discontented  man,  who 
has  perhaps  a  bad  conscience.  Take  a  glass  of  anise- 
water  and  be  gone ;  you  have  affairs  that  will  be  better 
for  expedition." 

So  the  men  returned  to  the  ship  too  much  disap 
pointed  to  admire  as  they  might  have  done  the  good 
brick  houses,  the  well-paved  streets,  and  the  air  of  pros 
perity  and  happiness  pervading  the  pleasant  new  city. 
On  reaching  the  "  Good  Intent,"  they  found  there  sev 
eral  visitors,  —  Friends,  who  had  come  to  give  them 
welcome.  They  were  chiefly  inhabitants  of  Flushing, 
and  all  during  the  past  year  had  suffered  by  fines  or 
imprisonment  for  the  faith  which  was  in  them. 

Still,  it  was  believed  to  be  only  a  passing  persecution, 
induced  by  the  zeal  of  the  New  England  colonies ;  and 
Roger  determined  not  to  be  driven  from  his  original 
purpose  until  he  received  a  clear  command  in  the 
matter.  John  Woodhouse,  however,  thought  it  best  to 
depart  with  the  next  tide,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
company  went  with  him ;  some  to  the  welcoming  shores 
of  Rhode  Island,  others  to  that  beautiful  isle  lying  in  an 
inlet  of  the  sea  near  the  eastern  point  of  Long  Island, 
which  belonged  entirely  to  Nathaniel  Sylvester.  Na 
thaniel  was  a  devoted  Quaker,  and  in  his  little  domain 
the  persecuted  always  found  comfort  and  protection ;  so 
that  it  was  known  even  then  by  its  blessed  name  of 
Shelter  Island. 

At  first  Roger  thought  of  taking  Olivia  there ;  but 
shelter  of  a  peculiarly  pleasant  character  was  speedily 
offered.  There  lived  then  at  Gravesend,  on  Long  Island, 
the  Countess  Mordee,  a  noble  Puritan  lady,  much  spoken 
of  by  the  Dutch  historian  Croese.  She  had  recently 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  383 

become  a  Quakeress,  and  at  her  house  at  Gravesend  the 
meetings  of  Friends  were  held. 

With  this  lady  Olivia  remained  more  than  the  first 
year  of  her  exile  ;  for  Roger's "  intentions  in  the  new 
life  to  which  he  had  dedicated  himself  included  mis 
sions,  and  he  had  been  hindered  in  the  making  of  his 
own  home  by  an  impression  of  religious  duty  to  visit 
the  Barbadoes,  and  also  the  Virginia  colony.  During 
this  time  Olivia  had  heard  no  voice  out  of  her  past.  A 
Friend  whom  her  father  met  in  Virginia  asserted  that 
he  had  left  several  letters  for  her  with  Elizabeth  Harris, 
who  was  going  to  Oyster  Bay ;  but  Elizabeth  Harris  had 
not  been  permitted  to  preach  there,  and  the  letters  had 
never  reached  Olivia's  hand.  Neither  had  she  had  any 
opportunity  of  sending  a  word  to  Nathaniel  or  to  her 
aunt-.  Many  English  men  and  women  had  indeed  been 
at  Gravesend,  but  none  expected  to  return  speedily ;  or 
if  they  did,  they  were  not  going .  near  the  North  Coun 
try.  And  this  silence  of  the  living  is  of  all  silences  the 
hardest  to  bear.  She  sent  her  soul  forth  to  seek  her  be 
loved  in  such  eager,  longing  thoughts  that  she  could  not 
but  feel  sad  and  depressed  when  it  always  came  back 
without  any  apprehension  of  sympathy. 

But  one  day,  nearly  fourteen  months  after  her  landing, 
a  young  man  called  upon  the  countess,  and  he  was  going 
direct  to  Westmoreland.  He  would  pass  the  gates  of 
Kelderby.  He  would  see  and  speak  to  Nathaniel.  Oh, 
how  her  hands  trembled  as  she  wrote  !  The  countess 
watched  her  speaking  face  with  an  emotion  full  of  the 
memories  of  her  own  youth.  She  went  to  Olivia,  and 
kissed  her. 

"  Oh,  Cornelia,"  she  answered,  "  to  think  that  he  will 
touch  this  paper  !  "  And  she  touched  with  her  lips  the 
white  messenger  of  her  love. 


384  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

It  was  one  of  the  gloomiest  days  in  January  when  it 
reached  Nathaniel.  The  mountains  around  Kelderby 
stood  up  black  and  menacing  against  the  ghastly  neutral 
tint  of  the  sky  behind '  them ;  and  the  dripping  crags, 
the  sea  of  barren  heather,  and  the  gray,  stony  road 
through  it,  were  the  symbols  of  the  joyless  ways  of  his 
own  life.  Down  this  road  he  saw  the  bearer  of  his  letter 
coming,  and  his  quick-eared  spirit  heard  in  his  footsteps 
a  tone  of  hope.  The  stranger  himself  had  a  kind  of 
familiarity ;  he  was  like  a  man  met  in  a  dream ;  and 
Nathaniel  was  hardly  astonished  when  he  took  the  letter 
from  his  inner  pocket  and  put  it  into  his  hand. 

And  because  love  has  a  tireless  curiosity  about  the 
beloved,  Nathaniel  kept  his  guest  in  his  room  all  night ; 
and  though  they  talked  of  many  subjects,  every  one 
ended  in  Olivia.  She  was  well,  and  she  said  she  -was 
happy.  Nathaniel  felt  unspeakably  grateful  for  this  as 
surance.  Also,  the  aching  silence  had  been  broken ; 
there  was  hope  in  the  very  circumstance.  He  was  not 
ashamed  of  the  tears  of  joy  that  filled  his  eyes,  —  not 
ashamed  to  linger  over  every  word,  to  touch  the  insen 
sate  paper  with  an  almost  sacred  emotion,  to  lay  it 
where  his  beating  heart  would  be  constantly  and  con 
sciously  aware  of  its  presence. 

Never  had  Nathaniel  more  needed  the  influx  of  some, 
outside  consolation.  In  Kelderby  there  was  the  gloom 
and  shadow  of  coming  grief.  The  country  was  on  the 
verge  of  anarchy,  —  Richard  Cromwell  trembling  at  the 
dangers  of  his  office,  and  eager  to  escape  them  ;  and 
General  Monk,  with  the  army  at  his  back,  secretly  work 
ing  for  the  king's  return. 

"  I  shall  be  the  last  Kelder  of  Kelderby,  Nathaniel," 
the  baron  had  often  said  lately.  "  Charles  Stuart  is 
coming  back,  and  De  Burg  will  have  his  way." 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  385 

It  was  not  for  himself  the  old  man  was  troubled.  It 
was  for  the  past  and  future  Kelders  he  mourned.  For 
men  in  those  days  entertained  not  only  a  present  but 
a  reflective  affection.  The  pictured  faces  on  the  walls 
had  a  personality  to  him ;  and  he  saw  in  Nathaniel  not 
only  the  son  whom  he  loved,  but  also  the  father  of  fair 
sons  he  might  never  see  on  earth,  but  who  he  believed 
would  still  be  bound  to  him  by  imperishable  though 
invisible  ties.  Every  generation  transmits  less  and  less 
of  this  reflective  love ;  but  the  men  who  want  it  are 
poorer  in  its  lack  than  they  know. 

It  happened  that  on  this  day  the  baron  was  so  unwell 
that  he  kept  his  room.  He  was  drawing  nigh  to  three 
score  years  and  ten,  and  was  frequently  conscious  of  that 
limpness  of  body  which,  like  the  limp  falling  of  leaf  upon 
leaf  in  a  plant,  shows  the  decay  of  living  power  to  keep 
all  erect.  Public  events  made  him  very  anxious;  and 
though  he  did  not  give  Nathaniel  any  verbal  sympathy 
he  saw  the  young  man's  suffering,  and  suffered  with  him. 
Only,  at  seventy  years  of  age  men  feel  it  to  be  impossible 
to  force  events. 

In  the  twilight  when  he  awakened  from  his  afternoon 
sleep,  he  saw  Lady  Kelder  sitting  by  the  fire  knitting. 
He  watched  her  a  few  minutes  before  she  was  conscious 
of  his  observation,  and  he  saw  that  she  was  annoyed  and 
mentally  busy. 

"What  is  it,  Joan?" 

She  lifted  her  face,  and  the  wrinkles  went  out  of  her 
brow,  and  a  pleasant  light  came  into  her  eyes.  "  Are 
you  better,  Odinel  ?  —  and  as  to  my  trouble,  it  is  an  old 
one,  Baron.  I  conceive  myself  a  tolerably  patient  woman, 
but  I  confess  to  being  at  this  hour  much  moved.  Here 
is  a  man  from  the  Dutch  plantation  in  America,  with 
more  news  than  is  good  news,  —  a  tedious,  troublesome 

25 


386  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

fellow  mixing  up  his  religion  in  all  affairs,  even  with  a 
subject  so  little  worthy  of  it  as  that  Quaker  Prideaux  and 
his  girl  Olivia." 

"  I  remember.     A  very  righteous  man  was  Prideaux." 

"  'T  is  the  girl  concerns  us.  You  would  think  that 
Nathaniel  had  got  a  kingdom,  instead  of  a  letter  from 
her.  Blessed  be  God,  there  is  the  ocean  between 
them  !  " 

"  Olivia  Prideaux  is  a  sweet  woman ;  very  lovely,  very 
pure  and  good.  Forget  that  she  is  a  Quakeress,  and 
who  so  worthy  of  our  Nathaniel?" 

"  A  sweet  woman  —  so  good,  so  good  !  I  have  heard 
that  Athens  banished  her  greatest  man  because  she  was 
weary  of  hearing  that  he  was  so  just,  so  just !  I  under 
stand  Athens.  I  am  too  much  of  a  mortal  woman  myself 
to  wish  a  daughter  so  good,  so  good  !  Let  her  be  ban 
ished.  America  is  neighbourhood  close  enough." 

"  Joan,  my  dear  heart,  your  words  are  much  harder 
than  your  real  thoughts." 

"She  maketh  trouble  wherever  she  goeth.  Even  at 
sea  men  must  be  sinning  and  fighting  about  her.  In  her 
letter  to  Nathaniel  she  tells  a  wondrous  story  of  John  de 
Burg  boarding  their  ship ;  and  at  the  last  moment,  when 
life  and  honour  were  not  worth  a  pin's  fee,  John  de  Burg 
falls  dead,  or  is  struck  dead  by  lightning,  and  a  storm 
carries  the  wicked  men  away,  and  the  Quaker  saints  get 
safely  into  harbour.  Faith,  I  have  no  patience  with  such 
pretensions  !  From  a  very  trifle  the  tongue  or  the  pen 
kindleth  a  great  matter.  Do  you  indeed  believe  such 
things?" 

"  That,,  and  much  more,  may  be  true.  The  ocean  is 
the  highway  of  devils,  and  God  had  need  to  work  mira 
cles  on  it.  But,  in  truth,  a  great  storm  is  no  miracle ; 
and  good  men  have  perished  by  his  lightning,  as  well  as 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  387 

evil  men.  Nevertheless,  these  Quakers  have  a  mighty 
faith,  and  miracle  is  the  child  of  faith.  By  it  we  are  told 
we  can  move  mountains,  and  how  much  easier  to  move 
the  good-will  of  Him  whom  winds  and  waves  and  the 
swift  lightning  obey." 

"  I  have  had  faith  all  my  life.  Surely  the  Puritan  has 
as  good  a  faith  as  the  Quaker,  and  I  have  asked  deliver 
ances  with  faith,  and  they  have  not  come.  Faith  is  a 
hard  thing  to  understand,  Baron ;  not  even  Minister 
Duttred  can  make  a  good  explanation  of  it.  Very  fine 
sermons  he  has  preached  on  faith,  but  I  am  not  wise 
enough  to  understand  them.  And  truly  I  think  others 
are  in  the  same  case." 

"  'T  is  most  likely ;  yet  a  Quaker  lad  whom  I  met 
keeping  a  few  sheep  on  the  fellside  told  me  in  a  few 
words  the  secret.  '  Faith,'  said  he,  '  living  faith,  appre 
hends  God  with  the  heart,  not  with  the  reason.'  Ah  ! 
Joan  dearest,  as  I  draw  near  to  the  Invisible  I  think  less 
and  less  of  reason  and  more  and  more  of  faith." 

She  looked  steadily  at  him.  His  voice,  though  low, 
penetrated  to  the  root  of  her  being.  For  the  first  time 
she  realized  that  he  was  an  old  man,  and  that  they  might 
not  be  very  long  together.  He  lay  on  a  large  sofa  cov 
ered  with  black  sheepskins,  and  a  rug  of  the  same  mate 
rial  covered  him.  Against  this  sombre  wrap  the  pallor 
and  emaciation  of  age  would  have  been  remarkable  but 
for  the  suffusing  glow  of  the  radiant  soul  behind.  She 
went  softly  to  his  side,  and  put  her  arms  under  his  head, 
and  laid  her  face  against  his,  and  whispered  words  that 
he  had  taught  her  in  the  days  of  their  youth. 

And  he  answered  her  as  she  loved  to  hear  him  speak : 
"  We  have  had  such  a  happy  life,  Joan.  So  much  in  our 
forty  years  together.  Of  all  God's  good  gifts  to  me  you 
are  best  and  best  loved." 


388  FRIEND   OLIYIA. 

"And  our  dear  son,  Odinel?" 

The  baron's  face  shadowed  a  little.  "  I  am  grieved 
to  my  heart  for  Nathaniel.  He  suffers  so  much,  and  I 
suffer  with  him,  Joan.  He  hath  been  a  good  son  to 
us." 

"  Truly  so,  save  in  one  thing." 

"  He  carries  all  my  cares ;  he  bates  me  not  one  tittle 
of  my  respect;  his  love  shields  me  from  every  small 
vexation ;  he  troubles  me  not  with  his  troubles ;  he  asks 
nothing  for  himself,  —  a  noble  youth,  Joan.  I  would  to 
God  I  could  see  him  happy  ere  I  go  away  forever !  " 

"  His  pale,  kill-joy  face  is  complaint  enough.  It 
offends  me  every  day,  and  every  hour  of  the  day." 

"Yea,  he  hath  fallen  off  his  flesh  past  belief;  and  he 
is  more  sad  and  silent  than  his  years  and  affairs  warrant. 
'T  is  easy  to  see  that  he  hath  a  heart-sickness  beyond  our 
power  to  cure." 

"  But  if  that  Quaker  girl  were  here  he  would  be  ten 
years  younger  in  an  hour.  He  is  so  distracted  with  love 
for  her." 

"  I  remember  forty  years  ago,  Joan.  I  was  distracted 
with  love  also."  His  eyes  sought  hers ;  and  the  memory 
of  that  dead  year  softened  her  heart,  and  she  drew  his 
thin  face  closer  to  her  breast  and  kissed  it. 

"  If  you  could  give  Nathaniel  his  wish  in  this  matter, 
Joan,  it  would  make  my  last  days  very  happy.  If  he 
marry  not  this  girl,  he  will  marry  none  other.  Is  he  to 
be  the  last  Kelder?  I  am  sad  when  I  think  on  it." 

"  And  't  is  very  cruel  in  Nathaniel  to  give  you  such 
matter  for  sadness.  No,  he  is  not  a  good  son  if  he  does 
all  else  and  then  undoes  all  by  this  left-handed  blow." 

But  the  baron's  words  had  wounded  her  in  the  most 
secret  and  loving  depths  of  her  soul.  That  night  she 
sat  a  long  time  musing  before  the  fire  in  her  room.  The 


JOHN  DE  BURGS  FAILURE.  389 

declining  beauty  of  memories  and  regrets  was  on  her 
face.  She  felt  that  the  silver  cord  that  moored  her  to 
time  was  being  slackened,  and  that  if  her  husband  left 
this  world  before  her  she  would  be  very  lonely  in 
'  life. 

"  He  is  sprung  of  earth's  best  blood  and  of  heaven's 
finest  spirit,"  she  said  with  a  tearful  pride,  "  and  I  thank 
God  that  I  have  been  his  dear  wife  !  What  if  I  should 
give  him  his  desire?  'T would  make  him  happy.  For 
his  sake,  for  his  dear  sake,  I  could  —  perhaps  —  swallow 
that  Quaker  girl  —  with  a  gulp."  Then  sweet  memories 
and  sweet  influences  gathered  round  her ;  she  lost  herself 
in  a  reverie  of  gracious  recollections  of  the  days  of  her 
•  youth,  —  the  holy  trials  and  peace  of  its  home  ;  the  father 
and  mother  whom  she  had  so  tenderly  loved ;  the  little 
sisters  who  had  died  when  they  were  playing  children  at 
her  side. 

When  Jael  entered  she  spoke  to  her  with  a  sigh  of 
relief.  It  was  good  to  have  been  a  little  beyond  earth, 
but  she  was  not  one  made  for  long  flights.  "  I  have  been 
thinking  of  my  father  and  mother,  Jael,  and  of  my  little 
sisters  Mary  and  Elizabeth.  I  believe  they  answered  my 
thought.  I  felt  as  if  they  were  present." 

"  It  is  a  dull  time,  my  Lady,  and  I  would  n't  be  wel 
coming  any  freits  and  fancies.  I  can't  think  the  dead 
come  back  for  a  thought.  It  is  n't  likely." 

"  Thought  may  be  prayer,  Jael." 

"  Yes,  my  Lady.  If  you  see  a  spirit,  then  you  know  it 
is  there  ;  but  as  for  feelings  —  " 

"  If  there  is  a  rose  in  the  room,  Jael,  though  the  room 
be  dark,  you  know  that  the  rose  is  there.  If  a  spirit  is 
in  the  room,  though  you  see  it  not,  you  may  know  that 
it  is  there." 

"  Certainly.     How  does  Master  do  to-night?  " 


39O  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

"  He  is  better,  but  troubled  about  his  son  and  that 
Quaker  girl.  Jael,  I  am  afraid  she  will  be  Lady  of 
Kelderby  yet." 

"  We  often  plan  things  a  deal  worse  than  God  ever 
means  them  to  be.  I  would  n't  borrow  trouble  of  the 
day  you  never  saw,  my  Lady." 

"  A  strange  story  the  girl  tells  of  John  de  Burg's  stop 
ping  their  ship,  and  of  his  being  struck  down  by  light 
ning  just  as  her  father's  life  and  her  own  honour  were  in 
extremity.  I  make  no  account  of  such  special  inter 
ferences.  Too  far  off  they  always  happen." 

"  Nay,  then,  you  should  n't  say  that.  There  was 
Farmer  Metcalf  of  Satterlee,  —  that  is  n't  far  off,  I  'm 
sure ;  and  the  judgment  he  brought  upon  himself  hun- . 
dreds  came  from  east  and  west  to  see.  It  was  in  the 
year  the  king  suffered,  and  he  was  a  bit  of  a  royalist, 
they  do  say.  But  so  or  not,  he  had  a  fine  field  of  barley 
as  ever  grew  in  Westmoreland.  And  he  was  standing  in 
one  of  his  sinful  tempers  looking  at  it  when  Joseph 
Schofield  and  Timothy  King  came  by.  They  bid  him 
good-morning,  but  he  was  too  surly  to  say,  '  good,'  let 
alone  do  it ;  and  he  never  answered  them  a  word.  Then 
Timothy,  thinking  to  please  him,  said,  '  You  have  a  fine 
growing  field  of  barley,  Farmer.'  And  he  turned  with  an 
oath  and  answered,  '  To  be  sure  I  have,  if  God  Almighty 
will  only  let  it  alone.'  My  Lady,  God  Almighty  did  let 
it  alone.  It  never  grew  another  particle,  and  when  all 
the  fields  around  were  ready  for  the  sickle  Metcalf 's 
barley  was  not  in  the  ear.  So  it  drooped  and  withered 
away,  for  no  man  durst  cut  it  down,  and  the  farmer  him 
self  grew  moping  melancholy,  and  feared  God  and  man, 
and  hid  himself  from  the  sight  of  all  who  came  to  see  the 
wonder.  And  his  word  was  that  '  God  needed  not  to 
damn  him,  for  he  had  damned  himself  there  and  then.' 


JOHN  DE  BURG'S  FAILURE.  391 

And  to  be  sure,  if  all  tales  be  true,  John  de  Burg  was  fit 
to  provoke  even  the  patience  of  the  Eternal." 

There  was  a  short  silence  after  Jael's  testimony  to 
the  visible  judgments  of  God,  and  Lady  Kelder  rose  and 
went  to  her  dressing-table.  It  stood  in  a  recess  of  the 
large  window,  and  she  drew  aside  the  curtains  and  looked 
out.  Banks  of  gray  clouds  were  drifting  rapidly  over  the 
gray  sky ;  gloom,  wildness,  desolation,  were  all  around. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  soft,  sad  sound  of  human  voices. 
They  rose  and  fell,  and  sometimes  died  away  altogether. 
Jael's  lips  were  silently  moving. 

"  Do  you  hear  the  singing,  Jael  ?     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Janet  Bell  died  at  sundown.  They  came  to  Kelderby 
for  fire  and  salt  and  candlelight.  'T  is  the  corpse-dressers 
coming  home,  belike." 

"  I  thought  it  was  the  death  dirge." 

She  stood  listening  until  the  small  company  passed. 
The  wild,  sad  notes,  with  their  old,  old  words,  rose  and 
fell  on  her  consciousness ;  when  they  were  too  low  to  be 
articulate  her  memory  supplied  the  loss,  ar.d  when  they 
rose  in  a  plaintive  prayer  at  the  last  line  she  v/.vr ju 
echoed  the  imploration  :  — 

"  This  ae  night,  this  ae  night, 

Every  night  and  a', 
Fire,  salt,  and  candlelight, 

And  Christ  receive  the  soul !  " 


XIX. 

ANASTASIA'S   BEST   SIDE. 

"  The  gods  deride, 
Eying  the  boaster  proud  no  more, 
Struggling  amid  the  surging  tide  ; 
Shorn  of  his  strength,  he  yields  to  Fate. 
The  cape  he  weathers  not,  but  thrown 
On  Justice'  reef,  with  precious  freight 
He  perisheth  for  aye." 

"  As  in  the  land  of  darkness  yet  in  light, 
To  live  a  life  half  dead,  — a  living  death." 

"T^VERY  one  should  silently  bear  his  own  burden, 
•*-•'  rather  than  abridge  the  comfort  of  others ;  and 
Nathaniel  acted  upon  this  principle,  both  before  and 
after  the  receipt  of  Olivia's  letter.  There  was  trouble 
and  anxiety  enough  in  Kelderby  without  his  adding  his 
personal  disappointments  to  the  general  ill-fortune.  A 
bad  harvest  and  an  unusually  severe  winter  followed. 
Many  of  the  fishing-boats  were  lost  at  sea,  and  hundreds 
of  the  sheep  perished  in  the  great  snow-drifts.  Richard 
Cromwell  abdicated  the  honours  his  great  father  left 
him,  and  Charles  Stuart  came  back  to  the  throne  of 
England. 

After  this  event  the  Kelders  held  Kelderby  as  those 
ready  at  any  moment  to  resign  it.  They  were  sure  of 
De  Burg's  animosity ;  what  power  he  had  to  carry  out 
his  evil  desires  was  a  thing  beyond  their  judgment. 
Charles  had  been  to  his  adherents  in  exile  both  noto- 


AA'ASTAS/A'S  BEST  SIDE. 


393 


riously  prodigal  and  notoriously  indifferent.  Royalists 
were  angry  at  the  leniency  which  many  attributed  to 
good  nature,  but  which  was,  in  reality,  the  result  of  a 
selfish  temperament  impatient  of  any  matters  but  such 
as  related  to  its  sensual  gratification. 

De  Burg  considered  himself  to  have  been  specially 
neglected.  Charles  had  made  promises  to  him,  as  he 
had  to  scores  of  other  gentlemen,  which  he  was  both 
unwilling  and  unable  to  perform.  At  first  he  had  pros 
pects  of  a  wealthy  office  and  an  increase  of  lands  and 
honours.  But  a  sudden  blight  fell  upon  his  hopes.  The 
king's  manner  entirely  changed,  his  friendly  confidence 
became  a  freezing  politeness ;  and  when  De  Burg  met  his 
Majesty  walking  in  the  park  with  his  hand  upon  Strick 
land's  shoulder  he  understood  the  reason  of  the  change ; 
and  he  knew  also  that  Charles,  in  the  great  pressure 
made  upon  his  remembrance,  was  only  too  glad  of  ex 
cuses  for  withdrawing  his  favour. 

He  had  hoped  much  from  Anastasia's  influence  at  the 
court ;  but  Anastasia  had  worn  out  her  influence  before 
the  king  touched  his  sceptre.  Her  visits  to  France  had 
been  too  frequent.  She  had  wronged  her  fair  name,  and 
won  no  tangible  result  excepting  the  revocation  of  all 
edicts  of  outlawry  against  her  brother.  Perhaps  Charles 
considered  that  the  pardon  of  so  great  a  criminal  can 
celled  all  his  obligations  to  the  lady  and  her  father. 
The  real  cause  was  a  deeper  one.  Anastasia  was  not  a 
courtier.  She  had  no  control  over  her  temper  and  her 
feelings.  She  lacked  the  little  arts  which  gave  inferior 
beauties  superiority  over  her,  and  she  was  a  flaming 
target  for  such  women  as  Castlemain  and  Portsmouth. 
Their  public  tiffs  amused  the  king  for  a  little  while,  but 
they  finally  bored  him ;  and  when  it  came  to  that  point 
Anastasia's  day  was  over. 


394  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

In  the  October  following  that  wild  May  revel  which 
had  ushered  in  the  new  Stuart  tyranny,  De  Burg  and  his 
daughter  returned  to  Kendal.  Both  had  changed  much 
in  their  absence.  De  Burg  had  grown  stout,  and  his 
hair  had  become  quite  white.  Anastasia  had  lost  the 
bloom  and  elasticity  of  youth.  Travel,  anxiety,  and  the 
petty  annoyances  of  her  court  life  had  left  indelible 
marks,  and  "  failure "  was  written  broadly  over  all  her 
life. 

Their  house  had  been  used  by  Puritan  soldiers  as  a 
barrack,  and  it  was  but  the  wreck  of  a  once  fine  dwell 
ing.  A  gloomy  first  meal  the  father  and  daughter  ate  in 
their  recovered  home.  They  had  anticipated  such  a 
different  return,  and  they  were  each  in  their  hearts  in 
clined  to  blame  the  other  for  the  utter  lapse  of  their 
claims  and  the  sudden  withdrawal  of  royal  favour. 

"  I  am  better  here,  after  all,"  said  De  Burg,  looking 
round  upon  his  disfigured  dining-room.  "  I  was  an  eye 
sore  in  London,  but  they  rung  the  bells  in  Kendal  when 
they  heard  I  was  coming  back ;  and  my  old  servants,  — • 
honest  people,  —  how  they  trooped  around  my  horse  ! 
You  saw  that  I  could  scarce  make  way  for  them." 

"You  feed  and  clothe  them,  — honest  people." 

"  As  for  the  king,  he  is  —  " 

"  Just  what  I  told  you,  when  I  first  went  to  Paris." 

"  Knowing  him  so  well,  then,  you  ought  to  have  used 
him  to  better  purpose." 

"  I  am  no  courtier." 

"  You  are  a  woman." 

"  I  '11  swear  you  are  less  than  a  father." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  so  reproachfully  that  De  Burg 
could  not  answer  her.  They  finished  the  meal  in 
silence,  and  then  De  Burg  sat  down  to  smoke  on  his 
desolated  hearth.  Anastasia  made  no  further  effort  to 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE.  395 

discuss  their  affairs.  She  felt  sure  it  would  end  in  re 
crimination.  Listlessly  she  wandered  about  the  room, 
noting  the  places  on  the  wall  left  vacant  by  the  loss  of 
pictures ;  the  cabinets  emptied  of  their  Indian  curiosi 
ties  and  china ;  the  poverty  of  the  oak  buffet,  that  had 
once  shone  with  silver.  In  a  corner,  half  hidden  by  a 
sofa,  she  saw  something  familiar  lying.  She  stooped  and 
lifted  the  object.  It  was  her  lute.  Every  string  was 
broken ;  they  hung  around  it  rusty  and  tuneless  forever. 
A  few  bitter  tears  sprung  to  her  eyes ;  she  winked  them 
angrily  away,  and  carrying  the  piteous-looking  thing  in 
her  hands,  bade  her  father  good-night,  and  went  slowly 
to  her  chamber. 

It  had  suffered  less  than  the  main  rooms ;  perhaps  the 
rough  soldiers  had  been  touched  by  the  many  feminine 
appeals  to  their  respect  which  it  contained.  That  un 
happy  blue  and  white  dress  which  she  had  sworn  she 
would  never  wear  again  still  hung  in  the  awmrie.  There 
were  odds  and  ends  of  ribbons  and  laces  about.  A  pair 
of  tiny  bronze  slippers,  with  faded  bows  of  pink  ribbon 
on  them,  lay  before  the  dressing-glass.  The  very  shep 
herdess  hat  she  had  worn  on  that  fateful  afternoon  when 
she  played  shuttlecock  with  the  heart  of  Nathaniel 
Kelder  —  and  lost  her  game — hung  on  a  nail  by  the 
window.  Chairs  had  been  removed,  and  the  large 
cheval-glass  was  cracked  ;  but  the  oak  bedstead,  with  its 
fantastic  carving  and  damask  curtains,  stood  as  she  had 
seen  it  all  her  life.  And  it  was  evident  the  store  of 
linen  had  not  been  discovered,  for  it  was  spread  with 
fine  sheets  aromatically  fragrant  from  their  long  seclusion 
with  lavender. 

The  servants  had  forgotten  a  fire,  but  she  was  glad  of 
it.  A  fire  conduced  to  reflection,  and  she  did  not  want 
to  reflect.  It  would  have  increased  the  temperature, 


396  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

and  she  was  already  feverishly  hot.  The  cool,  gloomy 
room  with  its  snowy  expanse  of  sheets  and  pillows  was 
more  inviting. 

With  the  force  of  old  habit  she  put  the  candle  near 
the  dressing-mirror,  and  sat  down  before  it.  She  had 
on  a  brown  velvet  dress  laced  in  front,  and  she  began  to 
loosen  the  silken  cord,  which  was  passed  round  small 
gold  buttons.  She  did  not  hurry;  in  fact,  she  dallied 
with  the  task,  as  if  its  postponement  would  delay  some 
misfortune.  Beneath  this  open  front,  filling  in  the 
diamond-shaped  spaces  made  by  the  lacing,  there  was  a 
white  stomacher  dotted  with  pearls.  She  began  delib 
erately  to  count  them,  and  then,  swift  as  light,  there 
came  to  her  memory  that  wretched  afternoon  of  her 
wedding-day,  when  she  sat  in  the  same  place  counting 
the  pearls  on  her  shoes.  She  had  resolved  not  to  think 
of  the  past,  and  there  it  was  and  would  not  be  put 
away. 

"And  this  is  the  end  of  it  all,"  she  said,  glancing  up 
at  the  shepherdess  hat,  but  at  the  same  moment  taking 
from  her  bosom  a  letter. 

It  was  a  letter  from  Pastro,  written  in  very  bad  Eng 
lish  mixed  with  very  good  French.  It  told  her  that 
John  de  Burg  was  at  Chenage  waiting  to  see  her  there ; 
also  that  he  was  ill  and  needing  her  assistance. 

"  Every  time  I  hear  of  John  he  is  ill,"  she  said  impa 
tiently.  "What  has  come  over  the  man?  And  'tis  so 
long  since  I  saw  him.  There  is  some  mystery  to  be 
reached,  and  I  know  it  will  be  a  miserable  one.  What 
else  comes  to  me  ?  I  have  a  mind  to  forswear  the  Devil 
and  live  religiously." 

But  if  she  was  foolishly  fond  of  any  earthly  creature, 
she  was  fond  of  her  brother ;  and  she  determined  to  go 
to  Chenage  early  on  the  following  day.  So  much  must 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE. 


397 


have  happened  during  her  absence,  and  she  had  heard 
nothing  of  it.  Letters  had  indeed  come,  and  once  a 
very  welcome  bag  of  gold  pieces ;  but  the  message  was 
ever  the  same,  —  "The  Captain  is  sick,  but  will  come 
soon." 

As  she  turned  her  curls  around  her  fingers  she  antici 
pated  the  happy  moment  when  she  could  say  to  him  : 
"John,  here  is  your  pardon  for  all  past  offences;  and 
here  is  your  commission  as  privateer  from  Charles,  King 
of  England."  Her  next  dream  was  to  reconcile  father 
and  son.  She  hoped  yet  to  see  John  the  acknowledged 
heir  of  De  Burg.  In  London  he  could  now  visit  her 
openly,  and  as  the  years  went  by  the  people  whom  he 
had  wronged  would  die,  or  they  would  forget,  or  their 
forgiveness  might  be  purchased.  She  had  many  lovers, 
but  no  friend  in  whom  she  trusted,  with  whom  she  could 
throw  off  all  disguises ;  and  she  expected  in  the  com 
panionship  of  John  the  satisfaction  of  a  heart  hungry  for 
sympathy,  and  finding  it  abundantly. 

When  she  came  to  breakfast  in  the  morning  she 
wore  her  riding-habit.  "  I  am  going  to  Chenage, 
Father,"  she  said.  "  Will  you  find  any  content  in  going 
with  me?" 

"  Go  to  Chenage  !  Not  for  a  dukedom.  Why  not 
sell  Chenage?  Its  price  will  renew  and  refurnish  De 
Burg.  I  should  not  think  you  would  have  any  liking  for 
Chenage,  Asia." 

"  Liking  for  Chenage  !  Good  God  !  have  you  any 
liking  for  Appleby  jail  ?  Chenage  was  a  prison-house,  a 
torture-chamber  to  me." 

"  Then  sell  it." 

"  There  are  things  to  be  considered.  I  do  not  know 
whether  the  man  is  alive  or  dead.  He  may  come 
back." 


398  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  You  know  that  he  will  never  come  back.  I  have  not 
accused  you,  Asia.  I  have  too  great  a  sense  of  your 
misfortunes,  But  why  keep  up  a  pretence  with  me? 
Think  on  it  till  to-morrow." 

"  I  may  not  return  for  a  few  days." 

"  Pray,  whom  do  you  entertain  there  ?  " 

"  Father,  once  you  mistrusted  me  when  it  had  been 
far  better  to  have  let  me  alone.  Had  you  done  so,  John 
had  never  gone  to  Sandys,  and  the  Quaker  had  not 
given  the  king  an  opportunity  to  be  virtuous  at  your 
expense.  Oh,  so  much  sorrow  had  been  spared  !  " 

"  Peace  !  Are  we  such  fools  as  to  rake  among  the 
ashes  of  dead  days?  We  have  been  disappointed  to  a 
degree  (confound  the  king's  enemies!),  and  'tis  the 
part  of  wisdom  to  hide  it.  Sell  Chenage,  refurnish  De 
Burg,  and  if  you  have  an  ounce  of  wisdom  left,  marry 
the  young  lord  who  has  been  your  servant  so  long." 

"  He  has  an  attack  of  virtue  lately.  My  visits  to  Paris 
have  offended  him.  Faith,  he  is  so  smitten  with  the 
honour  of  the  dead  Southports  he  has  no  stomach  for  his 
own  happiness  !  I  am  sick  of  the  admirable  man." 

"  Well,  as  you  pleased  yourself  in  your  first  marriage, 
I  have  great  reason  to  expect  you  will  be  in  the  humour 
to  satisfy  me  in  the  future.  But  we  will  leave  the  dis 
course  on  it  at  the  present.  I  find  in  it  no  entertain 
ment.  I  wish  you  as  much  pleasure  as  you  look  for  in 
your  visit." 

She  was  burning  with  the  injustice  of  her  father's 
charge,  but  it  is  sometimes  impossible  to  answer  an  ac 
cusation  at  once  brutally  unkind  and  flagrantly  unjust. 
The  magnitude  of  tffe  lie  rouses  a  momentary  storm  of 
surprise  and  indignation,  and  its  final  result  is  a  speech 
less  contempt.  Anastasia  suffered  her  father  to  go  with 
out  denying  the  imputation.  She  would  challenge  it  in 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE. 


399 


the  future ;  at  this  hour  she  was  glad  to  escape  his 
company  and  espionage. 

She  reached  Chenage  about  noon.  There  she  was 
lady  paramount,  and  her  men  and  women  gathered 
eagerly  around  her  with  congratulations  and  offers  of 
service.  It  was  her  policy  to  treat  them  with  a  generous 
kindness  as  well  as  with  an  exacting  hauteur,  and  she 
was  extremely  popular.  She  took  her  steward's  arm  into 
the  parlour,  and  sitting  down  with  an  air  of  exhaustion, 
asked  after  "  the  poor  sick  gentleman." 

"  Captain  Latour?  Ah,  Mistress  !  You  will  indeed  be 
astonished.  Such  a  change  !  Only  God  in  heaven  —  " 

"  What  have  you  to  do  with  God  in  heaven  ?  Be 
not  so  presumptuous.  Is  Lieutenant  Pastro  with  his 
captain?" 

"  He  left  this  morning,  Mistress,  — before  day-dawn." 

"  In  what  room  is  the  Captain?  " 

"  In  the  room  with  the  Indian  hangings." 

Anastasia  drew  her  brows  together.  It  was  the  mas 
ter's  room.  She  had  not  occupied  it  since  his  disap 
pearance,  and  she  was  sorry  John  had  been  put  there. 
While  she  sat  and  drank  she  talked  over  the  affairs  of 
the  house  and  farm.  A  strange  reluctance  to  meet 
whatever  sorrow  was  in  that  room  had  come  to  her. 
With  the  goblet  of  wine  at  her  lips  she  shivered  and 
turned  sick  at  heart ;  but  she  would  not  permit  her  ser 
vant  to  attend  her  there.  When  he  was  busy  removing 
the  silver  she  went  quietly  up  the  steep,  dim  stairs  alone. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  before  the  closed  door  of  the 
room.  All  was  still  as  a  grave.  She  heard  not  a  move 
ment,  not  even  the  rustle  of  a  paper  or  the  stir  of  a  rest 
less  foot.  The  suspense  was  unendurable.  Perhaps  he 
was  sleeping. 

Softly  she  turned  the  handle,  and  the  door  moved 


400  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

softly  inward.  A  man  was  sitting  in  the  chair  facing 
her.  But  it  was  not  John  de  Burg.  It  could  not  be 
John  de  Burg.  He  was  shrivelled,  as  the  kernel  of  a 
nut  is  sometimes  shrivelled  in  its  shell.  He  had  lost  his 
stature,  as  if  a  mighty  hand  had  pressed  him  downward. 
He  was  quite  blind. 

She  closed  the  door  in  a  breathless  terror  and  slipped 
on  her  knees  beside  him.  "  John !  "  she  sobbed. 
"John!  John!  Is  it  you,  John?" 

A  single  tear  welled  out  from  his  sightless  eyes,  fell  on 
his  cheek,  and  lay  there.  She  kissed  it  away.  "  Is  it 
you,  John?". 

"  It  was  me,  Asia.  Now  that  you  have  come  I  will 
curse  heaven  and  earth,  and  die," 

"  I  will  stay  with  you.  I  will  give  my  life  to  you. 
John,  I  have  your  full  pardon.  No  one  can  hurt  you 
now." 

"  No  one  will  do  me  so  much  mercy.  I  am  like  that 
old  murderer  Cain,  —  there  is  a  mark  on  me." 

"  How  was  it,  John?  " 

"  The  lightning  struck  me.  I  was  after  those  damned 
Quakers.  They  were  in  my  hands.  Ten  minutes,  five 
minutes  sooner,  and  all  had  been  to  my  wish.  The  girl 
would  have  been  on  my  own  ship." 

"She  escaped  then?     Oh,  John  !  " 

"They  all  escaped.  I  was  beside  myself,  or  I  had 
seen  the  bolt  above  me.  I  would  not  see  or  hear  Pas- 
tro's  warnings.  I  had  had  the  dream,  and  he  had  warned 
me ;  but  until  it  was  too  late,  I  forgot  all  except  the 
pleasant  work  I  had  in  hand.  It  was  so  sweet  I  must 
needs  dally  with  it.  Oh,  oh,  the  cursed  fate  of  it !  " 

"  John,  where  have  you  been  since?  " 

"  Ask  Pastro.  I  can't  tell  you.  For  weeks  —  I  don't 
know  how  many  —  I  was  like  a  dead  man.  He  let  no 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE.  401 

one  know  how  dead  I  was.  He  said  he  got  his  orders 
from  me.  But  at  last  the  cowards  found  it  out,  and  they 
would  not  sail  with  me  on  board.  I  was  left  at  Mar 
seilles.  I  was  taken  to  Calais.  I  don't  remember  much 
since  the  blow.  I  can  only  think  of  what  happened 
before  it." 

"You  remember  that?  " 

"  Every  deed,  word,  and  look." 

"  John,  is  Chenage  alive  ?  " 

"  Dead  and  damned." 

"  Before  you  were  hurt  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  one  thing  to  be  grateful  for.  Hell 
would  be  a  happy  place  to  Chenage  if  he  could  see  me 
here.  He  went  first.  Ha,  ha  !  I  got  that  advantage  of 
him." 

"Dead?" 

"  Ay,  dead." 

"  Where  was  he  buried?  " 

He  laughed  a  thin,  shrill,  diabolical  shadow  of  a  laugh. 
"  Buried  !  Do  you  want  to  put  a  monument  in  the  mid- 
sea  to  his  good  temper  and  kind  heart?  Asia,  you 
make  me  feel  again.  Ha,  ha  !  Chenage's  grave  !  " 

"  Well,  he  had  one  —  somewhere  ?  " 

"  Ay,  a  safe  one ;  tons  of  stone  could  not  make  it 
safer." 

She  took  his  hand.  It  was  shrunken  like  that  of  a 
very  old  man,  brown  and  claw-like,  but  she  kissed  and 
fondled  it.  And  he  would  have  smiled  had  he  been 
able,  but  his  face  was  rigid ;  it  looked  as  if  with  every 
movement  it  must  crackle  like  parchment. 

"  You  have  not  married  again  ?  " 

"  A-God's  mercy  I  have  not !  I  belong  to  you  now, 
John.  You  have  met  ill  fortune;  I  will  help  you  to 
endure  it." 

26 


4O2  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Not  in  this  house,  I  pray,  Asia.  I  don't  fear  devils, 
but  I  don't  want  their  company  till  I  am  out  of  the  flesh 
and  a  fair  match  for  them.  The  nights  are  terrible.  I 
see  without  eyes."  And  he  shuddered  visibly. 

"  John,  I  want  to  sell  Chenage.  I  would  have  done 
so,  only  I  feared  —  I  thought  —  if  he  should  come  back." 

"  The  sharks  ate  him.  Now  do  you  fear  ?  Do  you 
think  he  will  come  back?  "  He  could  not  see  the  white 
terror  of  her  face,  so  he  went  carelessly  on :  "  He  was 
getting  very  weak,  and  he  was  going  mad,  and  the  men 
were  all  a-weary  of  him.  One  day  a  school  of  these 
fishes  of  the  Devil  came  alongside.  I  told  him  they  had 
come  for  him ;  and  they  got  him.  He  deserved  his 
fate,  all  of  it.  You  think  that,  Asia?" 

The  eagerness  with  which  he  asked  the  question,  the 
desperate  anxiety  on  his  sightless  face,  touched  the  ten- 
derest  spot  in  Anastasia's  heart.  She  understood  that  he 
was  troubled,  perhaps  superstitious,  about  Chenage's  death, 
and  she  hasted  to  give  him  such  assurance  as  she  could. 

"  He  deserved  it  all,  and  far  more,  John.  It  was 
beyond  mortal  power  to  give  him  the  punishment  he 
deserved.  He  was  nothing  better  than  a  human  shark, 
and  he  went  to  his  kind." 

He  was  grateful  for  the  strength  of  her  assertions, 
though  they  did  not  really  comfort  him.  For  it  is  im 
possible  to  escape,  even  in  this  life,  the  miserable  re 
morse  that  follows  sins  planned  for  and  deliberately 
worked  out,  day  by  day,  in  spite  of  all  the  remonstrances 
of  conscience  and  the  lets  and  bars  of  circumstances. 
All  mortals  are  subject  to  sudden  temptations,  to  slips 
into  sensual  mire,  to  the  ready  injustice  which  springs 
from  self-seeking;  but  it  is  the  premeditated  sins  that 
taint  the  whole  moral  nature  and  make  the  hour  of  death 
full  of  horror. 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE.  403 

In  a  dim  way  Anastasia  apprehended  something  of 
what  her  brother  was  suffering.  "John,"  she  said,  "you 
must  go  out  of  this  room.  Its  air  tastes  of  the  men  and 
women  who  have  breathed  it.  It  makes  me  shudder.  I 
shall  have  a  bed  put  in  the  dancing-gallery  for  you. 
There  is  plenty  of  morning  sunshine  there,  and  it  has  a 
door  leading  into  the  garden.  You  ought  to  be  in  the 
garden  a  great  deal.  You  ought  to  be  there  now." 

"  I  cannot  walk  very  well,  Asia." 

"  Then  you  must  be  helped."  And  she  called  her 
steward  and  her  groom,  and  directed  them  to  assist  the 
Captain.  In  a  few  minutes  she  had  every  servant  at 
work.  The  best  and  most  comfortable  furniture  was 
taken  to 'the  vacant  gallery,  which  had  been  the  ball 
room  of  the  house ;  and  while  these  changes  were  in 
progress  she  watched  John  with  satisfaction.  He  was 
evidently  enjoying  his  walk  in  the  October  sunshine. 
She  noticed  that  he  was  talking  with  animation  to  the 
men  upon  whose  arms  he  leaned.  He  came  in  weary 
and  hungry,  but  with  a  different  tone  in  his  voice,  and 
after  eating  he  sank  gratefully  down  upon  a  large  couch, 
and  was  soon  in  a  deep  sleep. 

Perfect  silence  encouraged  this  rest;  Anastasia  for 
bade  a  movement.  She  sat  beside  him,  and  watched 
and  thought  hour  after  hour  until  the  sun  set,  and  the 
gloaming  faded  to  darkness,  and  the  eery  feeling  crept 
through  the  lonely  house. 

It  happened  that  the  chair  which  she  had  taken  faced 
the  blank  west  wall,  and  it  was  covered  with  portraits. 
Some  power  drew  her  eyes  to  one  a  little  out  of  the 
direct  line  of  vision,  and  on  it  for  a  few  minutes  they 
were  riveted.  It  was  her  own  portrait,  surely.  Yet  the 
dress  was  antiquated  ;  she  had  never  worn  anything  like 
it.  She  went  softly  on  tiptoes  to  the  pictured  lady,  and 


404  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

looked  earnestly  into  her  face.  What  a  stormy,  beauti 
ful  face  it  was  !  She  seemed  to  understand  the  passionate 
resistance  in  it,  the  fear  and  contempt,  the  wistful,  hope 
less  glance  of  the  eyes,  full  of  a  presentiment  of  sorrow 
which  as  yet  they  were  determined  to  disbelieve. 

"  It  is  myself,"  she  whispered.  "  When  Chenage  was 
torturing  me  I  have  looked  in  the  glass  and  seen  the 
very  face  I  see  there."  She  took  a  footstool  and  stood 
upon  it,  and  she  found  in  one  corner  the  name  of 
"Cecilia  Temple  Chenage,  A.  D.  1600."  A  strange  love 
and  pity  warmed  her  heart.  She  wept  as  the  young 
often  do  weep  at  the  image  of  their  own  fancied  suffer 
ing  or  death.  "  My  dear,"  she  said,  softly  speaking  to 
the  picture,  —  "  my  dear,  if  you  are  me,  and  I  was  you, 
be  content.  I  have  revenged  your  wrongs." 

The  pictures  were  all  more  or  less  faded,  but  this  face 
had  a  special  clarity  among  them.  Its  white  oval,  with 
some  stray  gleam  of  light  upon  it,  had  probably  been  the 
quality  of  its  attraction.  She  looked  at  it  until  it  seemed 
alive ;  the  mouth  parted,  and  the  eyes  followed  her. 

Then  a  sudden  thought  made  her  turn  to  its  companion 
picture.  She  expected  to  find  in  it  the  Roderick  Chenage 
who  had  been  her  own  husband's  example.  The  men  of 
the  house  were  all  much  alike,  —  fine,  healthy,  well-grown, 
and  well-groomed  animals,  full  of  a  brutal  vitality.  Almost 
any  of  them,  painted  about  the  age  of  thirty,  would  have 
passed  for  a  likeness  of  Roger  Chenage.  When  she  found 
the  one  she  looked  for  she  shut  her  lips  tightly,  and  said 
through  them, — 

"  I  thought  as  much.  You  are  a  proper  grandsire  for 
him.  You  look  precisely  as  he  looked  the  day  he  brought 
me  here.  Pah  !  What  a  nest  of  villany  this  house  is  ! 
I  will  sell  it  to  Mowbray  of  Milnthorpe.  He  hates  me 
and  I  hate  him,  and  it  would  content  me  to  cage  an 


ANASTASIAS  BEST  SIDE. 


405 


enemy  here.  He  used  to  be  one  of  my  humblest  ser 
vants  ;  but  he  is  a  deadly  drinker,  and  he  has  grown  fat, 
and  what  is  unforgivable,  suspicious.  He  said  he  would 
bet  a  Cromwell  fifty-shilling  gold  piece  that  I  knew  what 
had  become  of  Chenage.  I  don't  like  him,  but  he  wants 
to  buy  Chenage  and  he  shall  have  it." 

This  thought  gave  her  mental  occupation.  She  sat 
down  and  remained  motionless,  eagerly  busy  with  plans 
for  her  own  and  John's  future.  For  it  never  occurred  to 
her  that  their  separation  was  now  possible.  John  had  not 
blamed  her  for  his  evil  fate,  but  she  blamed  herself. 
Looking  at  him  as  he  lay  sleeping  by  her  side,  a  feeling 
almost  motherly  came  into  her  heart.  She  would  defend 
him  and  succour  him  to  the  last  extremity.  Neither  for 
father  nor  for  lover  would  she  give  him  up. 

He  awoke  after  five  hours  of  sound  sleep,  and  his  face 
at  the  first  flash  of  consciousness  filled  Anastasia  with  pity. 
What  misery  there  must  be  in  that  momentary  recogni 
tion  of  all  his  loss  and  helplessness  !  The  picture  of  it  on 
his  face  was  the  revelation  of  despair. 

"  John,"  she  said,  "  you  have  slept  five  hours.  It  is 
eight  o'clock.  Now  we  will  have  supper,  and  then  I  will 
sit  with  you  all  through  the  night  if  you  wish." 

"  If  you  only  would,  Asia  !  " 

"  'T  will  content  me  much  to  do  so." 

For  many  weary,  awful  months  John  had  not  passed  a 
night  so  endurable.  She  told  him  about  the  Lady  Cecilia, 
and  she  made  much  of  the  picture  that  was  so  like  herself. 
Though  she  had  never  heard  of  the  transmigration  of 
souls,  love  and  pity  taught  her  the  doctrine ;  and  she 
made  John  feel  that  he  had  been  the  elected  avenger  of 
wrongs  too  intolerable  to  endure  the  grave's  oblivion. 

When  trembling  and  horror  and  the  sense  of  presence 
seized  him,  she  gravely  ridiculed  the  fear.  "  Your  soul  is 


406  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

sick  as  well  as  your  body,  John.  Chenage  here  !  Impos 
sible  !  If  he  were,  would  I  not  know  it  ?  I  was  his  mur 
derer,  —  you  were  only  my  knife.  Let  him  come  to  me- 
Faith  !  I  do  not  fear  him  without  his  body."  But  her 
brave  words  belied  her.  She  was  white  with  terror,  and 
shivering  through  all  her  soul  with  that  coldness  which 
defies  heat  of  sun  or  fire,  and  which  gives  a  sense  of  the 
supernatural. 

Toward  morning  they  both  slept  heavily.  The  sun 
rose  in  a  silvery  haze,  and  streaming  through  the  eastern 
windows  fell  upon  the  unconscious  brother  and  sister. 
John  lay  on  the  sofa  in  a  limp,  nerveless  heap,  his  once 
handsome  face  as  placid  as  a  child's.  Anastasia  sat  be 
side  him,  her  head  against  the  leather-cushioned  chair, 
her  habit  loosened,  and  her  dark  curls  covering  her  white 
throat  and  bosom.  She  woke  first,  and  for  a  few  mo 
ments  she  looked  steadily  at  her  companion.  The  im 
pulse  of  prayer  was  in  her  heart,  but  she  was  ignorant  of 
its  motions,  and  knew  not  its  language.  Yet  perhaps  her 
unselfish  love  and  pity  was  the  next  thing  to  it. 

She  remained  at  Chenage  until  afternoon,  and  went 
back  to  De  Burg  with  one  settled  purpose,  —  that  John 
should  be  wherever  she  was.  She  expected  opposition, 
and  she  knew  that  in  her  heart  there  was  a  controlling 
fear  of  her  father.  Through  it  he  had  made  her  marry 
Chenage,  but  he  should  not  make  her  desert  John.  The 
instinct  of  defence  and  protection  —  the  mother-instinct 
for  helplessness  that  clings  —  had  been  born  of  full  stat 
ure  in  her.  It  flashed  in  her  eyes,  and  gave  an  air  of 
defiance  to  her  manner. 

De  Burg  had  been  occupying  the  day  in  carefully  ex 
amining  his  ruined  home.  He  had  made  an  estimate  of 
the  repairs  and  furniture  necessary  for  each  room,  the 
offices  to  be  rebuilt,  the  work  to  be  done  in  the  park  and 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE. 


407 


garden.  He  discovered  that  a  farm  adjoining,  which  he 
had  long  desired,  was  to  be  sold.  The  old  Puritan  who 
owned  it  was  going  to  the  New  England  Colony.  It 
could  be  bought  for  half  its  value,  and  Chenage  would  do 
all  this  and  leave  besides  a  comfortable  income  from  the 
residue  of  ready  money. 

On  Anastasia's  return  he  told  her  with  his  usual  blunt- 
ness  the  result  of  his  investigations.  He  went  into  the 
statement  with  some  particularity,  but  he  noticed  that  she 
listened  with  the  air  of  a  person  who  had  made  a  decision 
beyond  argument  and  beyond  change. 

"  I  bless  myself  that  things  are  not  worse,"  he  said ; 
"  and  yet  both  house  and  land  are  hugely  out  of  order. 
T  will  take  as  much  as  five  thousand  pounds  to  restore 
the  place,  I  can  assure  you.  Has  it  yet  entered  your 
mind  to  consider  the  sale  of  Chenage  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  the  humour  to  sell  it  to  Mowbray  of  Miln- 
thorpe.  He  has  offered  me  eighteen  thousand  pounds. 
'T  is  but  half  its  value,  but  't  will  serve  my  purpose  better 
than  delay." 

"  In  God's  name,  then,  close  with  him.  I  shall  be  but 
very  little  myself  until  De  Burg  is  as  it  should  be.  I  will 
see  about  workmen  at  once." 

ff  Take  patience,  sir !  I  give  not  up  what  I  paid  so 
dea.rly  for  unless  for  some  small  selfish  consideration.  I 
will  have  my  room  and  the  two  rooms  adjacent  made  as 
certainly  mine  as  the  abbey  is  your  own.  No  one  shall 
have  power  to  enter  them.  I  will  entertain  there  for  life 
—  or  for  his  will  and  pleasure  —  one  whom  I  am  bound 
to  care  for.  Calm  yourself,  sir !  I  am  not  to  be  brow 
beaten  by  your  passion  in  this  matter.  The  man  is  blind 
ajid  helpless.  He  is  dear  to  me.  He  has  rights  here 
beyond  even  my  affection." 

De  Burg  was  staring  at  her  with  an  amazement  that  had 


408  FRIEND    OLIVIA. 

something  of  fear  in  it.  His  wit  had  touched  the  truth 
instantly,  though  he  would  not  advance  boldly  to  it. 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,  Mistress,  and  are  trying  to  es 
cape  obliging  me  by  making  a  condition  beyond  all  rea 
son.  Who  is  this  man  ?  " 

"  He  is  called  Captain  Latour.  You  need  know  him 
by  no  other  name.  He  cannot  see  you,  and  you  may 
make  a  point  of  not  seeing  him.  I  promise  that  I  shall 
use  all  my  intelligence  to  keep  him  outside  your  presence. 
I  will  have  his  room  furnished  to  my  wish.  The  mid- 
room  is  for  his  attendant.  My  own  apartment  has  been 
much  respected,  and  it  will  require  but  few  additions.  In 
a  week  I  can  give  you  one  thousand  pounds.  I  will  add 
four  thousand  pounds  as  soon  as  the  sale  of  Chenage  is 
completed." 

He  was  in  a  white  heat  of  passion  before  she  finished 
her  proposal. 

"  Captain  Latour !  John  de  Burg,  you  mean.  And 
you  have  a  thousand  pounds  !  Truly,  you  are  a  good 
daughter  to  hide  so  much  gold  and  see  your  father  at  his 
wit's  end  for  a  few  sovereigns." 

"If  you  will  have  truth  where  less  than  truth  would  be 
for  your  comfort  and  welfare,  take  it.  Captain  Latour 
is  John  de  Burg." 

"  Then  you  conceive  me  to  be  a  man  beyond  the  sense 
of  honour.  Is  my  room  to  shelter  a  villain  and  an  outlaw  ?  " 

"  Lord,  sir  !  your  roof  has  sheltered  more  villains  than 
saints.  And  John  is  no  longer  an  outlaw.  He  hath  the 
king's  pardon  and  also  the  king's  commission.  As  for  the 
gold,  't  was  not  mine  until  yesterday ;  and  if  I  said  a 
thousand  pounds,  't  is  like  enough  to  be  much  beyond  it ; 
for  though  John  is  blind,  I  trow  he  is  rich  enough  to 
buy  De  Burg  and  make  a  present  of  it  to  the  bats  and 
owls." 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE. 


409 


"  Keep  your  temper,  Mistress.  Consider  what  a  hub 
bub  the  news  would  cause  an  it  were  found  out.  I  can 
remember  the  bells  of  Kendal  church  being  rung  back 
ward  when  his  ship  was  seen  off  the  coast." 

"  Surely  you  are  to  blame,  sir,  that  a  spirit  of  so  much 
resource  and_  bravery  was  not  bended  to  nobler  purposes. 
Trust  me,  in  some  respects  others  have  been  more  guilty 
than  he  hath." 

"  You  say  that  he  is  blind?  " 

"  Alas  !  struck  blind  by  lightning." 

"And  rich?" 

"  I  think  that  he  can  pave  his  way  into  any  house  with 
gold.  An  you  shut  him  out  of  yours,  I  shall  keep 
Chenage  and  go  to  him." 

"  I  will  have  time  to  think  o'er  the  matter.  For  my 
life  I  cannot  understand  your  infatuation.  But  if  he  is  to 
be  at  Chenage,  as  well  be  at  De  Burg.  For  you  know, 
Asia,  I  am  extremely  at  your  mercy,  loving  you,  as  I  do, 
with  all  my. life." 

"  I  have  known  better  men  than  you,  Father,  to  lie 
about  love  and  gold,  but  I  will  take  your  words  and 
credit  them.  And  as  your  anger  mends  not  the  past, 
why  should  it  wrong  the  future  ?  Must  John's  gold  pass 
De  Burg  ?  The  king  has  pardoned  him ;  the  lightning 
spared  his  life.  Surely  you,  being  his  father,  may  give 
him  shelter." 

"  I  shall  be  credited  with  some  partnership  in  his 
crimes." 

"  Have  you  so  little  opinion  of  your  own  standing  ? 
When  did  you  begin  to  fear  the  '  say  so '  of  your  neigh 
bour?  But,  indeed,  John  spoke  somewhat  of  southern 
France,  and  't  was  only  for  my  sake  he  came  here ;  and 
faith  !  though  he  were  beggar,  as  well  as  blind,  he  should 
not  come  to  me  for  love  and  lack  it." 


4IO  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  If  it  was  I  —  " 

"  Suffering  in  the  same  kind,  I  would  stand  for  you  to 
the  same  extent." 

"  I  expect  no  such  miracle  of  love.  'T  is  a  hard  case. 
I  must  lose  your  presence  and  let  De  Burg  go  to  ruin,  or 
I  must  save  both  to  myself  by  the  aid  and  the  presence 
of  a  double-dyed  villain." 

"  As  I  have  been  told,  it  was  so  that  De  Burg  came 
to  us.  Could  John  be  worse  than  that  Lord  Avenal 
de  Burg  who  turned  out  upon  the  snow-covered  moors 
one  hundred  nuns  from  this  house?  I  have  heard  that 
the  rest  of  his  wicked  deeds  he  wrote  on  a  parchment 
with  his  own  blood.  You  have  that  record,  and  are 
proud  of  it.  Tis  like  enough  that  future  De  Burgs 
will  make  tales  and  songs  about  John.  Do  you  believe 
he  is  worse  than  many  others  of  his  age  and  humour? 
As  for  the  neighbours,  do  they  keep  your  will  and  your 
opinions,  and  order  your  house  ?  By  St.  George  !  I  have 
more  of  the  spirit  of  a  man  than  you  have." 

"  Mind  this,  Asia,  I  am  neither  to  be  rushed  nor  bul 
lied  by  a  woman's  tongue.  I  will  take  time  and  thought, 
and  I  will  do  as  seems  right  and  honourable  to  me." 

With  that  he  left  her,  and  Anastasia  lifted  her  lips  in 
scorn  for  the  little  bluster,  which  she  saw  through  very 
clearly.  She  had  now  no  doubt  as  to  the  result  of  her 
offer.  The  pinch  of  gold  grinds  to  impalpable  dust  such 
fragilities  as  honour  and  good  report.  What  De  Burg 
mainly  wished  to  consider  was  the  public  stand  he  should 
take ;  whether  it  would  be  best  to  bluff  the  truth  in  the 
face  of  all,  or  accept  John  as  Captain  Latour,  and  ignore 
all  criticism  on  the  subject. 

He  was  much  impressed  by  the  very  vagueness  of 
John's  reputed  wealth.  He  looked  at  the  great  gray 
pile  going  to  ruin  for  want  of  gold,  and  he  determined 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE.  411 

to  sacrifice  the  passion  of  hate  to  the  stronger  passions 
which  pleaded  for  its  restoration,  and  for  that  popu 
larity  and  congenial  employment  which  building  and 
reordering  his  house  would  give  him. 

But  he  had  not  that  honesty  of  nature,  nor  even  that 
common  gratitude  for  help,  which  would  have  led  him 
to  take  his  son's  hand  as  well  as  his  son's  gold.  He 
resolved  to  hide  all  obligation  behind  the  figment  of 
"  Captain  Latour."  People  would  talk,  and  very  likely 
would  say  unkind  things  of  Anastasia,  but  Anastasia  was 
able  to  defend  her  own  good  name.  She  was  indifferent, 
also,  while  he  was  supersensitive  to  public  opinion,  and 
could  not  endure  the  humiliating  thought  of  having  to 
explain  himself  in  the  smallest  matter. 

He  delayed  his  acceptance  of  Anastasia's  terms  for 
three  days,  —  a  most  unnecessary  concession  to  a  con 
temptible  pride.  For  Anastasia  had  read  his  motives 
from  the  moment  when,  hearing  of  John's  riches,  he 
had  descended  from  the  plane  of  his  own  injured  honour 
to  the  consideration  of  the  hubbub  his  neighbours  would 
make,  and  to  the  trifling  memory  of  the  bells  ringing 
backward. 

As  soon  as  he  had  noisily  shut  the  door  behind  him, 
she  began  to  plan  for  her  brother's  comfort.  She  had 
chosen  for  him  the  rooms  he  had  before  occupied, 
because  they  would  be  familiar  to  him.  He  would  re 
member  the  position  of  doors  and  windows  and  hearth, 
and  even  of  the  main  pieces  of  furniture.  She  had 
mentally  selected  the  old  woman  who  was  to  be  his 
constant  attendant,  and  she  decided  to  make  the  com- 
fjrts  and  perquisites  of  the  position  sufficient  to  secure 
allegiance  and  discreet  silence. 

Before  De  Burg  condescended  to  advise  her  of  his 
submission  the  rooms  were  so  thoroughly  cleaned  and 


412  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

renovated  that  even  a  blind  man  must  have  been  sen 
sible  of  their  atmosphere  of  comfort.  In  less  than  a 
week  John  was  at  home  in  them.  His  removal  was  ac 
complished  during  De  Burg's  visit  to  Milnthorpe  about 
the  sale  of  Chenage,  and  the  circumstance  was  not 
mentioned  to  him.  He  asked  no  questions,  and  the 
few  remarks  made  by  the  servants  regarding  the  stranger 
were  received  with  such  icy  anger  that  they  were  never 
repeated. 

And  very  soon  he  was  in  the  midst  of  a  work  which 
satisfied  all  his  desires.  John  had  been  more  generous 
than  even  Anastasia  had  dreamed  of,  and  De  Burg  was 
adding  a  new  wing,  and  building  new  stables,  and  laying 
out  the  garden  afresh.  In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  he 
had  almost  forgotten  the  humiliating  condition  which  had 
made  all  this  grandeur  possible. 

John's  gold  flowed  with  ready  generosity,  and  John 
was  never  visible  to  him.  This  was  partly  owing  to 
Anastasia's  tact,  partly  to  an  unacknowledged  but  very 
real  carefulness  on  his  own  part.  He  knew  that  on  fine 
days  Anastasia  walked  with  her  brother  either  in  the 
park  or  upon  the  moor  outside  it,  and  he  knew  that  the 
hour  for  this  recreation  was  generally  mid-afternoon,  so 
at  that  time  he  was  always  with  the  workmen. 

Neither  was  he  sensible  of  any  diminution  in  his 
daughter's  attentions.  She  was  ever  ready  to  preside 
over  his  meals.  She  had  her  old-time  alacrity  in  the 
discussion  of  their  affairs.  She  was  not  a  whit  less  dis 
posed  to  differ  with  his  opinions  and  to  contend  for  her 
own  way.  She  dressed  with  her  old-time  extravagance, 
she  had  many  new  lovers,  and  was  apparently  as  eager 
as  ever  for  the  honours  of  the  hunting-field  and  the 
ball-room. 

But  there  was  another  Anastasia  of  whom  the  world 


ANASTASIA'S  BEST  SIDE.  413 

had  no  conception.  Only  one  old  woman  and  one  man, 
blind  and  helpless,  knew  her.  As  soon  as  she  entered 
John's  room  her  face,  her  voice,  her  manner  changed. 
And  yet  she  always  brought  the  world  in  which  she 
ordinarily  lived  into  it.  Sitting  by  her  blind  brother's 
side,  she  told  him  every  trifle  that  happened.  He  knew, 
through  her,  all  the  workmen,  and  what  they  were  doing, 
and  what  progress  they  made.  He  saw  through  her 
vivid  words  his  father's  importance  and  impetuosity, 
and  heard  his  comments  and  his  vaunting  and  his 
anger.  She  clipped  none  of  his  oaths;  she  softened 
nothing  of  his  thrasonical  braggadocio  and  fanfaronade. 
She  told  him  all  about  her  lovers;  she  mocked  and 
imitated  them ;  there  was  not  a  man  or  a  woman  or 
a  merry-making  that  he  did  not  see  through  her  eyes. 
She  made  him  pass  his  hands  over  all  her  finery,  and 
described  its  colours  and  beauty.  If  anything  troubled 
her,  if  she  received  a  slight  or  had  a  quarrel,  John 
knew  all  about  it. 

The  sympathy  and  companionship  she  craved  she  had 
in  entire  perfection.  Shut  in  his  narrow  world,  with  only 
one  creature  to  love,  John  made  all  her  feelings  his  own. 
And  she  was  under  no  temptation  to  deceive  him.  He 
enjoyttd  her  spite  and  anger  and  reprisals  and  cutting 
words.  In  his  lonely  darkness  he  nursed  her  small 
social  wrongs,  and  thought  out  stinging  revenges  for 
her.  Whatever  consolation  John  de  Burg  could  derive 
from  the  perfect  love  of  a  nature  kindred  to  his  own 
was  most  completely  his. 

So  the  days  and  weeks  passed  on.  The  winter  was 
open,  and  not  unfavourable  for  much  of  the  work.  When 
it  was,  the  lower  rooms  were  noisy  with  artisans  busy 
on  the  carved  panels  of  the  wainscoting,  or  in  polishing 
the  woods  for  the  floors  and  furniture.  One  afternoon 


414  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

Anastasia  and  her  brother  were  walking  slowly  across  the 
little  strip  of  moor  between  the  park  and  the  highway. 
John  liked  to  get  from  under  the  trees  and  feel  the  wind 
blowing  freely  over  him.  He  was  leaning  on  Anastasia's 
arm,  his  hat  was  in  his  hand,  his  face  was  lifted  to  catch 
the  sunshine  and  the  breeze.  They  were  nearing  the 
outermost  corner  of  the  park  wall,  and  were  on  the  point 
of  turning,  when  a  horseman  rounded  it.  It  was  Na 
thaniel  Kelder,  and  he  realized  in  a  moment  not  only  that 
he  saw  John  de  Burg,  but  that  the  man  was  blind. 

He  stopped  suddenly,  and  Anastasia  also  stood  still. 
She  looked  into  her  brother's  unconscious  face,  and  then 
into  Nathaniel's.  It  was  a  look  that  spoke  with  tongue 
and  eyes  and  heart,  —  a  look  rapid  as  thought,  pitiful  as 
prayer.  It  said  all  that  words  could  have  said  in  a  long 
petition.  She  dropped  John's  hand,  and  stood  a  trifle 
before  him,  —  the  involuntary  movement  of  love  ready  to 
defend.  The  attitude  gave  to  her  anxious  face  a  singu 
lar  attraction,  a  power  of  entreaty  not  to  be  resisted. 

Nathaniel  lifted  his  hat,  bowed  his  head,  and  rode 
on.  She  understood  the  movement ;  it  was  a  promise 
of  oblivion.  She  took  her  brother's  hand  again,  and 
resumed  their  walk ;  but  she  was  haunted  by  the  look 
in  Nathaniel's  eyes,  —  the  sudden  and  sad  wonder,  the 
quick  apprehension,  the  quick  pardon,  the  infinite  pity. 
A  moment  revealed  all,  and  she  could  hardly  restrain 
the  sharp  cry  of  soul-pain  that  parted  her  lips. 

As  for  John,  he  did  not  even  ask  who  it  was.  He 
had  once  vowed,  "  by  all  the  devils  in  hell,"  to  take  full 
vengeance  upon  Nathaniel  Kelder;  and  Nathaniel  had 
passed  him  with  a  prayer  of  pity,  and  he  knew  it  not. 


XX. 

FOR  LOVE'S   SAKE. 
"For  love's  strength  standeth  in  love's  sacrifice." 

"  From  olden  faith  how  many  a  glorious  deed 
Hath  lit  the  world  !  its  blood-stained  banner  led 
The  martyrs  heavenward  ;  yea,  it  was  the  seed 
Of  knowledge,  whence  our  modern  freedom  spread." 

"  So  will  the  shine 

Of  soul  that  strikes  on  soul  make  fair  and  fine 
This  earthly  tenement.     Thou  shalt  extol 
The  inner,  that  the  outer  love'.ier  seem." 

/TSHE  baron  and  Lady  Kelder  were  sitting  together  in 
•*•  that  confidential  silence  which  is  satisfied  with  the 
nearness  of  the  loved  one.  Their  thoughts  were  identical 
in  kind,  for  both  were  reflecting  that  the  following  day 
would  be  the  fortieth  anniversary  of  their  marriage. 

In  our  age  life  is  so  exacting  that  old  people  have  too 
often  exhausted  all  poetic  feeling,  have  become  indif 
ferent,  and  weary  as  travellers  at  nightfall.  But  this 
happy  couple  in  spite  of  years  had  kept  the  dew  of  their 
youth.  They  were  still  easily  moved  and  easily  pleased. 
Their  hearts  blossomed  like  spring,  though  near  the 
winter  of  age ;  and  their  simple  dignity,  their  green 
intellects,  their  kindness  and  ready  cheerfulness  gave 
them,  in  spite  of  their  gray  hairs,  something  of  the  air 
and  the  charm  of  youth. 

The  baron  found  his  lady  as  beautiful  as  ever.  Her 
figure  was  yet  erect,  her  features  were  noble,  her  eyes  as 


41 6  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

young  as  they  were  at  twenty ;  so  soft  and  limpid,  as  she 
sat  this  night  opposite  him,  that  he  fancied  he  could  look 
through  them  into  the  loving  soul  behind.  A  smile 
tender  and  gentle  completed  her  face.  It  was  not  an 
inadvertent  smile ;  it  had  come  naturally  from  the  wife's 
last  glance  at  her  husband.  For  she  had  suddenly 
remembered  the  coming  anniversary,  and  had  with  the 
thought  lifted  her  eyes  to  him. 

"A  man  after  God's  own  heart,"  she  whispered ;  "  and 
't  is  the  greatest  honour  I  have  to  be  loved  by  him." 

Then  her  face  saddened  slightly ;  she  was  in  a  little 
perplexity.  Always  hitherto  she  had  been  able  to  give 
him  some  trifle  that  he  wished  for  or  required  as  a  wed 
ding  token.  In  their  earlier  years  it  had  been  a  hand 
some  garment,  a  set  of  laces,  a  horse,  or  a  purse ;  and 
on  one  memorable  occasion,  just  before  the  battle  of 
Marston  Moor,  the  sword  which  typified  her  consent 
and  sympathy. 

In  later  years  her  tokens  had  usually  taken  the  form 
of  books.  In  the  baron's  corner  the  oak  shelves  were 
full  of  them,  —  polyglots  of  Antwerp  and  Paris,  with 
such  colossal  theologians  as  Augustine,  Jerome,  Aquinas, 
Calvin.  On  a  lower  shelf  the  dumpy  vellums  of  Dutch 
divines,  at  peace  beside  Bishop  Hall  and  Dr.  John 
Owen  and  Mr.  Richard  Baxter;  and  nearest  of  all, 
Francis  Bacon  and  Philip  Massinger,  Selden  and  Izaak 
Walton,  with  Quarles,  Crashaw,  Herbert,  etc. 

This  year  she  had  bought  nothing.  Their  position  was 
so  uncertain  that  money  had  a  value  touching  things 
which  were  invaluable.  It  might  be  required  for  simple 
existence,  for  comforts  on  which  life  depended  ;  she  did 
not  dare  to  spend  a  shilling  lest  it  should  afterward  be 
sorely  needed.  Yet  she  was  troubled  at  the  omission. 
It  had  made  her  heart  ache  for  many  days.  And  she  had 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


417 


ransacked  her  coffers  and  cabinets  in  the  hope  of  finding 
something  that,  either  for  its  associations  or  its  intrinsic 
value,  might  be  worthy  to  offer.  Nothing  had  come  of 
her  search,  and  to-morrow  morning  she  could  only  give 
him  again  the  love  that  was  always  new  and  young ;  and 
she  did  not  doubt  but  that  her  empty  hands  would  be 
just  as  welcome  as  they  were  on  the  day  of  her  bridal. 
Still,  still  she  wished  she  had  a  token.  In  forty  years  it 
was  her  first  failure.  Then  she  remembered  the  won 
derfully  blessed  year  in  which  Nathaniel  was  born.  The 
boy,  the  heir,  had  been  her  bride-clay  gift.  So  to-morrow 
was  also  Nathaniel's  birthday.  She  had  not  forgotten  it, 
but  in  this  connection  it  came  with  a  fresh  significance. 
"  A  good  son,"  she  thought,  "  a  dear,  good  son,  a 
worthy  Kelder;  and  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart." 

To  this  thought  Nathaniel  entered.  She  had  grown 
accustomed  to  his  gradual  emaciation,  and  to  the  sadness 
in  his  eyes ;  for  he  had  always  a  smile  for  his  parents, 
though  one  that  brightened  his  face  only  for  the  passing 
moment.  He  had  been  to  Kendal  on  important  business, 
and  he  talked  its  circumstances  fully  over  before  he  spoke 
of  his  meeting  with  Anastasia  and  John  de  Burg. 

Lady  Kelder  was  intensely  curious  on  this  subject ;  and 
when  Nathaniel  described  how  the  fierce,  strong  man  had 
been,  as  it  were,  shrivelled  up  by  fire  and  smitten  blind  by 
its  flash,  she  trembled,  and  cried  out,  "  Odinel !  Odinel  I 
You  must  — "  Then  she  ceased,  for  she  saw  that  the 
baron  had  covered  his  face,  and  she  knew  that  he  was 
praying. 

After  a  few  moments'  silence  Nathaniel  said,  "  George 
Fox  was  speaking  in  Kendal  to-day." 

"Where?" 

"  He  stood  upon  one  of  the  stone  tables  in  the  open 
fish-market.  Yqu  know  it  is  but  a  little  space,  and  quite 

27 


41 8  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

surrounded  by  shops  and  houses.  Every  window  was 
thrown  open  and  crowded  with  men  and  women,  and 
below  him  the  upturned  faces  were  solid  as  a  floor. 
Father  !  Mother  !  I  pray  you  listen  patiently  to  me.  I 
am  this  night  ashamed  of  my  faith,  and  I  find  it  impossi 
ble  to  excuse  the  things  I  have  heard." 

"  Surely  the  Quakers  are  not  complaining  again.  Has 
not  the  king  been  very  considerate  of  their  claims?  " 

"  'T  is  of  the  Quakers  in  New  England  I  speak.  Let 
Puritans  no  more  accuse  the  Jesuits ;  they  have  far  out 
done  them  in  cruelty  and  intolerance  to  men,  women,  and 
children." 

"  Nathaniel,  I  wonder  not  as  it  concerns  women. 
Women  preachers  are  a  moral  shock  to  all  good 
Christians." 

"  Tell  us  briefly,  Nathaniel,  what  George  Fox  said." 

"  There  is  no  need  that  I  tell  you  of  the  scourgings 
and  imprisonments,  and  the  doing  to  death  in  various 
ways,  that  have  made  the  footsteps  of  Quakers  in  New 
England  red  wet-shod  in  their  own  blood.  Governor 
Endecott—  "l 

"  I  knew  John  Endecott,  Nathaniel,  and  I  always 
thought  him  to  be  a  stout  Dorchester  man  as  ever  I 
had  dealings  with ;  a  good  fighter,  and  such  a  one  as 
pleaded  for  free  schools  twenty  years  ago.  No  drinker, 
no  dicer,  and  as  fond  of  a  garden  and  an  orchard  as  a 
boy  of  his  marbles." 

"  But  now,  Father,  he  is  sharpened  and  hardened  by 
the  cruel  preachers  at  his  side ;  and  by  their  counsel  the 
gallows  has  been  set  up  for  the  support  of  religion.  On 
it  they  have  already  hanged  —  " 

"  Well  then,  Nathaniel,  we  have  heard  of  the  hanging 
of  the  two  men  and  the  woman  preacher  many  a  time 

1  Spelled  so  at  this  date. 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


419 


and  oft,  and  we  have  —  if  it  please  you  —  heard  only  the 
Quaker  side  of  the  matter.  T  is  like  enough  they  pushed 
themselves  presumptuously  where  the  Lord  sent  them 
not ;  vain  and  vulgar  men." 

"  Indeed,  Mother,  they  were  neither  vain  nor  vulgar ; 
Robinson  being  the  son  of  a  great  London  merchant, 
well  bred  and  well  learned,  and  Stephenson  a  Yorkshire 
farmer  who  heard  while  at  his  plough  the  '  call '  which 
made  him  instantly  leave  his  wife  and  children  and  home 
and  go  as  the  Lord  sent  him  to  testify  on  the  gallows  set 
up  by  priests  on  Boston  Common.  As  for  the  woman, 
Mary  Dyar,  she  was  a  comely  and  grave  matron,  with 
the  soul  of  an  evangelist  and  martyr.  But,  as  my  mother 
saith,  'tis  an  old  story,  and  there  is  newer  matter  to 
complain  of.  On  the  i4th  of  last  January  they  hanged 
William  Leddra,  a  Cornishman  — 

"  But  what  for,  Nathaniel  ?  'T  is  a  kind  of  folly  to  say 
a  man  is  hanged  and  then  complain  of  it,  for  the  punish 
ment  infers  the  crime." 

"  Not  so.  They  could  find  no  fault  in  him  save  that 
he  preached  Christ  without  their  license,  and  assured  the 
people  that  Christ  spake  truth  when  he  said, '  1  will  come 
unto  you,  and  abide  with  you  ; '  not  that  he  would  send 
by  any  priest  or  preacher.  And  there  are  other  men 
left  under  sentence  of  death,  and  women  whipped  bar 
barously  through  the  streets,  and  cruelties  unmention 
able  practised.  Father  !  Mother  !  I  must  away  yonder, 
even  if  I  perish  with  my  friends.  I  die  daily  here,  I  do 
indeed." 

"Your  friends  the  Prideaux?  Are  they  not  in  the 
Dutch  colony?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  know  not.  I  had  short  speech  with 
George  Fox,  and  he  said  he  had  cause  to  think  that 
Roger  Prideaux  was  in  Boston ;  and  if  he  is  there  and 


420  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

in  prison,  Olivia  will  — "  He  ceased  speaking.  A 
deathly  paleness  overspread  his  face,  and  large  tears 
rolled  unchecked  from  under  his  closed  eyelids. 

Lady  Kelder  looked  at  him  in  silence,  and  then  rose 
quietly  from  her  chair  and  left  the  room.  The  baron  sat 
musing,  with  his  eyes  cast  upon  the  rug  at  his  feet. 
Silence,  pregnant  with  thought  and  feeling,  brooded 
between  the  men.  At  last  the  baron  spoke. 

"  Nathaniel,  I  wish  you  to  have  the  voman  you  love 
so  truly.  Go  to  her  ;  go  to  her  to-morrow." 

"  My  mother  will  never  consent ;  and  unless  she  give 
me  some  token  of  kindness  to  Olivia  I  go  in  vain. 
Olivia  will  not  marry  me  without  your  blessing  and  my 
mother's  welcome.  That  I  know  most  surely.  But  give 
me  your  blessing,  Father,  and  I  will  go  and  see  her  once 
more  ;  for  my  heart  is  rent  with  sorrow  and  anxiety,  and 
I  say  truly  that  I  am  dying  day  by  day." 

"  Go,  my  son,  and  my  blessing  with  you  !  And  do 
not  fear  concerning  the  estate.  Had  De  Burg  been  able 
to  prejudice  me  therein,  we  had  felt  his  hand  ere  this,  I 
think." 

"  But  if  question  of  this  kind  should  arise  while  I  am 
away?  " 

"  I  will  call  upon  Strickland,  and  ask  him  to  plead  my 
cause." 

Nathaniel  looked  the  thanks  he  felt  little  able  to 
speak.  He  was  worn  out  with  physical  fatigue  and 
mental  emotion,  and  glad  to  escape  to  such  oblivion  as 
a  sleep  tormented  with  fears  for  Olivia  brought  him. 

Lady  Kelder  had  gone  away  to  think,  but  her  bitter 
disquiet  did  not  suffer  her  for  some  time  to  concentrate 
her  mind  on  the  subject  filling  it.  She  called  Jael,  and 
found  that  Jael  had  gone  to  visit  a  sick  child.  She 
wandered  to  the  window,  and  with  her  heart  full  of  the 


FOX  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


421 


two  men  before  the  parlour  fire  she  looked  into  the  night. 
The  trees,  made  thin  by  autumn  winds,  let  her  vision 
sweep  through  them  far  off  to  the  horizon,  and  a  feeling 
of  loneliness  and  immensity  widened  her  soul.  She  cast 
her  eyes  upward,  and  the  heavens  spoke  to  her  in  their 
speech;  and  then,  she  knew  not  how,  but  her  heart 
was  softened,  and  she  began  to  weep.  Few  and  far 
between  are  such  moments  of  godlike  condition,  but 
they  do  come,  and  blessed  are  they  who  have  the  grace 
to  salute  them. 

So,  as  she  stood  there  in  the  twilight,  silent,  motion 
less,  humbly  receptive  to  all  good  influences,  she  thought 
of  her  husband  and  son  as  she  had  never  before  thought 
of  them  and  some  heavenly  power  put  an  idea  into  her 
soul  that  threw  all  her  nature  into  tumult,  —  a  great 
thought,  if  she  were  only  great  enough  to  entertain  it. 
She  had  been  longing  for  a  wedding  token  for  her  dear 
lord,  and  it  was  shown  her  how  to  offer  him  one  most 
acceptable.  But  it  was  a  gift  only  to  be  given  by  an 
absolute  surrender  of  her  closest  self.  Was  she  able  to 
make  so  great  a  sacrifice?  As  she  sat  still  in  the  dim 
light,  searching  the  very  depths  of  her  feelings  and  in 
tents,  Jael  entered.  She  lit  the  lights  and  prepared  her 
lady's  night  toilet,  moving  very  softly  about,  until  Lady 
Kelder  said,  — 

"  Jael,  what  of  the  sick  child?  " 

"  Dead,  my  Lady.  Only  the  soul's  leavings  there  now. 
A  bonny  lad,  and  so  like  himself  to  the  last  moment  that 
it  is  hard  indeed  to  think  of  him  as  changed  at  all." 

"  Poor  mother  !  " 

"  Well,  my  Lady,  Mary  Skelton  has  a  big  family,  seven 
lads  and  lasses,  and  the  last  one  not  a  month  old.  He  '11 
get  little  Geffs  name  belike,  and  step  into  his  place." 

"  Jael,  you  speak  foolishly.     One  child  can  never  take 


422  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

the  place  of  another  child.  Would  I  give  to  any  other 
daughter  the  place  of  my  lost  Alice  ?  God  forbid  !  Ah, 
Jael,  the  dead  loss  and  the  vacant  place  are  better  than 
such  compensation." 

This  loyal  thought  toward  the  dear  dead  hallowed 
and  softened  still  more  her  gentle  thoughts  of  the  dear 
living.  She  fell  asleep  with  a  troubled  and  tossed  and 
anxious  heart,  but  the  spirit  of  love  brooded  over  the 
soul's  tempest.  When  Lady  Kelder  awoke  in  the  morn 
ing  the  sunshine  was  streaming  through  the  east  windows, 
and  she  opened  her  eyes  with  a  smile.  Jael,  busy  about 
her  lady's  toilet,  noticed  her  cheerful  alacrity;  noticed 
also  that  her  usual  morning  fret  was  lost  in  a  silent  pre 
occupation  that  had  nothing  unhappy  about  it.  But  she 
thought  the  mood  well  accounted  for  by  the  anniversary 
it  held  in  memory. 

Now,  there  are  some  gracious  souls  who  like  to  make 
the  doing  of  a  kindness  a  sort  of  personal  festival.  Lady 
Kelder  bid  Jael  bring  her  handsomest  silk  robe,  and  she 
watched  its  arrangement  before  her  mirror  with  a  critical 
pleasure.  Deep  ruffles  of  fine  English  point  shaded  her 
yet  beautiful  hands,  and  a  hood  of  the  same  lace  fell 
with  a  picturesque  and  veil-like  grace  across  her  white 
hair.  Jael  settled  every  fold  of  lace  and  silk  with  a 
proud  approval ;  and  as  the  love  of  inferiors  is  generally 
grounded  upon  personal  or  social  advantages,  she  left 
her  mistress  that  morning  exceedingly  conscious  of  her 
superiority  to  all  other  women. 

For  a  few  minutes  Lady  Kelder  stood  motionless  in 
the  centre  of  her  room.  The  sunshine  fell  all  over  her 
noble  face  and  figure,  her  silk  robe  glistened  in  it,  and 
her  hands  with  the  white  ruffles  above  them  had  a  start 
ling  delicacy  against  its  sombre  splendor.  To  her  still 
face  and  dropped  eyelids  it  gave  a  specially  luminous 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


423 


character,  for  as  she  stood  thus  she  was  blind  to  outward 
surroundings ;  she  was  searching  with  spiritual  vision  the 
very  depths  of  her  nature. 

She  was  asking  herself:  "Can  I  do  this  thing  with 
all  my  heart?  Can  I  do  it  without  reservation?  Can 
I  do  it  not  only  at  this  hour,  but  during  all  the  days  of 
my. life?"  Still  as  the  woman  stood  and  looked,  she 
was  fighting  a  great  battle.  "  Can  I  do  it  ?  Can  I  do 
it  cheerfully?  Can  I  do  it  all  my  life?"  For  a  few 
minutes  this  solemn  inquisition  impressed  a  serious 
religious  gravity  upon  her  countenance. 

"  For  my  dear  love's  sake  !  For  my  dear  son's  sake  ! 
For  my  Lord  Christ's  sake,  I  can  do  it !  I  can  do  it  with 
all  my  heart  and  for  all  my  life  !  "  She  whispered  the 
words  to  God  and  herself;  and  as  she  did  so  her  face 
grew  bright,  and  she  lifted  clear  open  eyes  to  the  heaven 
which  by  faith  she  apprehended. 

As  this  act  of  self-renunciation  was  accomplished,  she 
heard  the  baron's  voice.  He  was  in  the  garden  beneath 
her  window,  and  with  a  strange  and  happy  exaltation  she 
went  to  greet  him ;  and  as  she  was  a  very  woman,  she 
was  conscious,  even  in  its  higher  atmosphere,  of  a  certain 
pleasure  in  her  rich  apparel  and  handsome  appearance. 

The  baron  stood  with  his  son  a  little  way  down  the 
main  avenue.  They  were  talking  of  Nathaniel's  proposed 
voyage,  and  the  young  man  leaned  against  the  straight 
bole  of  a  large  larch-tree.  The  baron  stood  erect,  fac 
ing  him,  and  he  had  a  few  late  flowers  in  his  hand.  Lady 
Kelder  called  their  names  in  a  joyful  voice,  and  daintily 
lifting  her  silk  skirt  to  avoid  the  dew  on  the  shrubs,  went 
toward  them.  Both  turned  their  faces,  alight  with  love 
and  admiration,  ceasing  from  speech  to  watch  her  ap 
proach.  With  a  pleasant  imperiousness  she  took  the 
first  word. 


424  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Odinel !  Husband  !  Dearest  heart !  This  day  I  give 
myself  again  to  you.  Nathaniel,  this  day  I  thank  God 
again  for  your  birth ;  and  for  my  wedding  token  to  you, 
Odinel,  and  for  my  birth  token  to  you,  Nathaniel,  I  have 
one  true  gift,  —  my  heart's  welcome  to  the  girl  Nathaniel 
loves.  She  shall  be  to  you  and  me,  Odinel,  as  a  dear 
daughter ;  and  I  surely  believe  she  will  be  to  you, 
Nathaniel,  a  true  and  loving  wife." 

It  was  a  supreme  sacrifice  and  a  supreme  thanksgiving 
under  the  drooping  larch  branches.  A  few  words  sprang 
hot  from  each  heart,  and  Nathaniel  kissed  the  happy  tears 
off  his  mother's  eyelids,  and  Lady  Kelder  kissed  them  off 
her  husband's  and  her  son's.  Somehow  the  white  late 
flowers  were  in  her  hand,  and  her  hand  was  on  her  hus 
band's  arm,  and  Nathaniel,  radiant  and  smiling,  was 
walking  at  her  side. 

And  she  was  not  a  woman  to  retract  a  tittle  of  her  gift. 
On  the  contrary,  she  entered  into  Nathaniel's  plans  with 
a  generous  detail.  She  wrote  a  letter  of  welcome  to 
Olivia,  and  stinted  no  word  of  her  loving  right  as  an 
adopted  daughter  of  her  house.  She  packed  Nathaniel's 
clothing,  and  gave  him  wise  and  practical  advice  as  to 
his  marriage  ;  and  she  sent  a  swift  messenger  to  Han 
nah  Mettelane  to  inform  her  of  Nathaniel's  intentions, 
and  bring  back  such  letters  as  she  desired  to  send.  And 
when,  on  the  second  morning  afterward,  Nathaniel  left 
Kelderby  for  his  long  journey,  she  bravely  kept  her  cheer 
ful  heart  to  the  last  moment,  and  sent  him  away  with  her 
love  and  blessing. 

Perhaps  she  had  some  doubtful  and  unhappy  moments 
in  the  solitude  of  her  room,  but  not  even  Jael  knew  of 
them.  For  to  Jael  she  had  accepted  Olivia  as  her  future 
daughter  with  such  a  complete  ignoring  of  her  former 
dislike  as  forbade  any  allusion  to  it. 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


425 


"My  son  goes  to  America  to  bring  home  Mistress 
Prideaux  as  his  wife,"  she  said  with  a  calm  complaisance. 
"  T  is  a  good  marriage,  and  a  great  content  to  the  baron 
and  myself.  And  as  't  is  the  first  marriage  in  Kelderby 
in  forty  years,  we  will  bring  home  the  bride  with  songs 
and  garlands  and  a  great  feast.  That  is  but  right,  I 
think."  And  Jael  looked  at  her  placid  face,  and  accepted 
the  situation  without  remark  or  demur.  For  in  its  haughty 
reticence  it  said  as  plainly  as  possible  :  "  I  have  changed 
my  opinions.  I  choose  to  forget.  I  choose  to  accept 
what  I  once  rejected,  and  I  will  suffer  no  remarks  on  my 
conduct." 

In  the  mean  time  Olivia  was  quite  unconscious  of  the 
joy  hastening  to  meet  her.  Her  mind,  open  and  thought 
ful  as  silence,  had  long  ago  admitted  that  there  never  yet 
was  gain  without  some  loss  in  it.  She  had  not  found  the 
wilderness  free  from  bewildering  human  mysteries  and 
agonies,  and  her  needs  there  had  often  been  as  close  and 
urgent,  and  heaven  and  help  apparently  as  far  off,  as  ever 
she  had  found  them  in  the  crowded  habitations  of  men. 
Life  came  to  her  uncalled  for,  and  from  every  point ;  and 
she  was  touched  and  moved  by  influences  flowing  in,  she 
knew  not  how  or  whence. 

Nothing  had  happened  just  as  Roger  had  planned. 
His  proposed  settlement  had  been  broken  up  by  circum 
stances  no  human  foresight  could  have  prevented ;  and 
instead  of  "  settling,"  the  way  had  been  opened  for 
travel  and  preaching  in  a  remarkable  manner.  It  was 
more  than  a  year  after  touching  American  soil  before  he 
had  a  house  of  his  own ;  and  then  every  room  in  it,  ex 
cepting  the  one  built  especially  for  Olivia,  was  a  "  pro 
phet's  room,"  and  "  Prideaux's  "  soon  became  known 
as  a  resting-place  and  a  gathering-place  for  all  Friends 
passing  to  and  fro  on  religious  journeys. 


FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

So,  then,  the  solitude  and  quiet  which  Olivia  had  an 
ticipated  were  not  realized.  The  house  was  never  empty 
of  guests :  there  were  many  meetings  and  discussions, 
and  people  coming  and  going ;  and  even  if  she  went  far 
into  the  woods  for  meditation,  she  was  not  sure  but  others 
of  like  mind  would  meet  her  there. 

One  morning  early  in  November  this  perpetuity  of 
companionship  fretted  her  calm  soul  to  the  verge  of  tears. 
She  could  not  help  wondering  if  there  would  not  be, 
among  the  hills  of  God,  "  coverts  "  where  "  rest  in  the 
Lord  "  could  not  be  broken  in  upon.  She  knew  there 
was  an  inward  peace  which  could  consume  like  a  fire  all 
murmur  of  discontent,  but  she  could  not  reach  it  while 
Anna  Copeland  was  telling  Rachel  Sanderson  of  her  great 
deliverances,  and  Roger  and  three  men  Friends  were 
sitting  together  for  directions. 

Yet  she  blamed  herself  for  her  inability ;  she  believed 
her  weakness  grew  out  of  vain  longings,  and  thoughts 
which  were  so  sacredly  personal  that  she  could  share 
them  with  no  earthly  being.  For  never  had  the  memo 
ries  of  the  past  haunted  her  so  vividly  and  so  persistently. 
She  had  not  been  able  to  listen  to  Anna  Copeland  for 
the  sound  of  the  bees  in  the  clover  fields  round  Mette- 
lane,  and  from  Mettelane  to  Sandys  and  Kelderby  how 
swift  was  the  soul- flight ! 

It  was  an  exquisite  day,  full  of  that  still  serenity  which 
precedes  the  advent  of  winter.  The  sun  was  pale,  the 
air  subtle.  The  trees  had  suffered  their  yearly  enchant 
ment,  and  now  and  then  they  talked  soughfully  among 
themselves,  in  soft  murmurs,  with  long  silences  between. 
She  sat  down  under  a  large  maple,  and  at  first  her  gaze 
was  full  of  that  total  indifference  which  comes  from  sheer 
weariness ;  perhaps  also  from  some  disappointment,  as  if 
she  had  looked  at  her  ideals  too  closely,  —  a  fatal  mistake 
in  life. 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE.  427 

She  appeared  a  little  older,  but  still  had  that  virginal 
beauty  of  promise  which  sets  "  the  budding  rose  above 
the  rose  full  blown ;  "  and  as  she  sat  musing  under  the 
great  vault  of  bare  branches  it  was  difficult  to  say  what 
of  the  unknown  and  unseen  was  in  her  lonely  simplicity. 

She  was  thinking  of  Nathaniel ;  recalling  his  nobility 
of  nature,  the  eager  tenderness  of  his  wooing,  the  sor 
rowful  atmosphere  in  which  their  love  had  grown.  Often, 
she  had  thus  thought  of  him,  until  the  sense  of  his  pres 
ence  had  been  so  sure  and  so  sweet  that  she  had  lifted 
her  eyes  to  see  if  he  were  not  coming,  and  listening 
intently  had  thought  she  heard  his  voice  calling  her.  For 
the  ear  has  its  own  memory.  It  watches  for  an  accus 
tomed  sound,  and  sometimes  imagination  will  not  let  it 
be  disappointed. 

This  morning,  when  the  same  sense  of  nearness  made 
her  heart  beat  and  her  face  flame  with  hope,  she  did  not 
raise  her  head.  Movement  would  break  the  spell ;  she 
would  hold  it  breathless,  and  save  the  influence  to  the 
last  moment.  But  it  did  not  fade  away  ;  it  grew  stronger. 
There  was  a  strange  stir  among  the  fallen  leaves ;  a  fa 
miliar  sound  of  quick,  even  steps ;  a  low,  intense  voice 
calling  her ;  some  one  coming  nearer,  nearer,  —  some 
one  different  from  all  others,  infinitely  dearer  and  closer. 

She  stood  up  and  cast  her  eyes  down  the  narrow  path. 
There  could  be  no  mistake.  The  tall,  erect  figure,  the 
clear,  happy  face,  searching  the  woods  as  it  came  on 
ward,  were  the  figure  and  the  face  of  Nathaniel  Kelder. 
She  went  swiftly  to  meet  him.  She  answered  his  call  with 
a  whisper  on  his  lips. 

Nathaniel  could  have  come  at  no  more  favourable  mo 
ment.  Her  heart  had  been  pleading  for  him  longer  than 
she  knew ;  for  it  had  learned  many  things  in  exile  that 
she  had  not  intended  it  to  learn.  Among  these  things 


428  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

was  the  conviction  that  God  was  not  more  easily  found 
in  solitude  than  in  the  stress  of  daily  life ;  that  the  soul 
makes  her  own  peace  quite  as  often  in  the  strife  of  cities 
as  in  the  loneliness  of  the  woods  ;  that  in  loving  and  doing 
and  suffering  it  is  possible  to  be  closer  to  the  Divinity 
than  in  simple  meditation. 

These  convictions,  so  easily  stated,  had  been  arrived 
at  only  through  disappointment  and  sorrow ;  and  they 
were  not  explained  to  Nathaniel  without  sweet  delays 
and  mutual  confessions  and  experiences.  When  they 
returned  to  the  house  Roger  was  sitting  alone  at  his  door. 
He  was  greatly  changed.  The  pious,  kindly  master  of 
Sandys  had  become  an  enthusiast  and  evangelist,  — 
rugged,  muscular,  sunbrowned,  and  though  spotlessly 
neat,  dressed  in  the  plainest  materials.  His  eyes  kindled 
when  he  took  Nathaniel's  hand,  and  then  he  looked  at 
Olivia  with  inexpressible  love  and  resignation. 

"  Thou  art  come  for  Olivia?  " 

"  Yea,  Roger.     Deny  me  no  longer,  I  entreat  you." 

"  I  cannot  deny  thee  what  God  hast  given  thee.  For 
the  last  month  I  have  felt  an  evidence  that  the  Lord 
would  break  my  last  tie.  Henceforward  I  am  only  his. 
He  can  send  me  through  the  wilderness,  or  to  the  lands 
far  off.  What  news  for  the  Lord's  people  hast  thou 
brought?" 

"  I  have  brought  news  full  of  hope  and  comfort. 
Edward  Burrough  has  made  all  the  sufferings  of  the 
American  Friends  known  to  King  Charles." 

"Will  he  care  for  them,  Nathaniel?  Nay,  for  his 
heart  is  wholly  set  on  the  pleasures  of  this  world." 

"  He  cares  for  his  own  authority,  which  the  Massachu 
setts  Colony  have  held  in  contempt." 

"In  what  special?  " 

"  Some  Friend,  denied  all  show  of  justice  in  Boston, 


FOR  LOl'E'S  SAKE.  429 

appealed  to  the  laws  of  England ;  and  Denison  mockingly 
bade  him  do  so,  saying,  '  This  year  ye  will  go  to  complain 
to  the  Parliament,  and  the  next  year  they  will  send  to  see 
how  it  is,  and  the  third  year  the  government  is  changed.' 
And  when  the  king  read  these  words  he  called  his  cour 
tiers  round  him  and  with  great  significance  said,  'Lo, 
these  are  my  good  subjects  in  New  England ;  but  I  will 
put  a  stop  to  them.'  " 

"  Ah  !     His  own  rights  being  in  question." 

"Then  Edward  Burrough  spoke  boldly  before  Charles, 
and  showed  him  what  a  vein  of  innocent  blood  had  been 
opened  in  his  dominions ;  and  the  king  angrily  cried,  '  I 
will  stop  that  vein.'  '  Then  do  it  speedily,  O  King ! ' 
answered  Burrough.  '  As  speedily  as  you  will.  Call  the 
secretary,  and  I  will  do  it  now,'  said  Charles.  And  so 
there  and  then  he  wrote  to  John  Endecott,  and  to  all 
and  every  other  governor  of  plantations  in  New  England, 
that  they  should  cease  to  punish  or  even  judge  Quakers ; 
but  that  if  they  did  aught  worthy  of  trial,  they  should  be 
sent  to  London  for  judgment." 

"  When  it  pleases  God,  kings  shall  plead  for  us." 

"  Also  the  king's  message  was  sent  to  Governor  Ende 
cott  by  the  hand  of  Samuel  Shattuck." 

"  Friend  Samuel  Shattuck  !  " 

"  Yea,  the  despised  Quaker,  driven  from  his  home  by 
Boston  priests,  goes  back  as  the  representative  of  their 
sovereign,  carrying  with  him  a  crushing  token  of  the 
royal  anger.  I  see  not  how  Endecott  will  endure  it. 
My  father  knew  him  once,  and  thought  well  of  him." 

"  In  some  things  I  also  think  well  of  him.  He  has 
taught  the  little  settlements  the  wisdom  of  unity,  and 
brought  over  many  good  men  by  his  good  government." 

"  But  he  is  a  bigot,  or  he  had  not  cut  from  the  flag  the 
sign  of  his  salvation." 


430  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  'T  was,  I  think,  a  deed  of  passion  against  a  foreign 
power  anxious  to  recall  the  charter  of  New  England  and 
establish  episcopacy.  For  truly,  with  the  carefulness  of 
a  crusader,  he  wears  always  the  sacred  symbol  clearly 
marked  in  the  form  of  his  beard,  —  a  perpetual  witness, 
Nathaniel.  And  he  is  such  a  man  as  will  not  bear  op 
position,  and  the  priests  set  him  on  fire  through  his 
prejudices." 

"  'T  is  the  great  mystery  of  our  religion,  this  tyranny 
and  brutality  of  the  priesthood." 

"  Nay,  't  is  no  mystery,  Nathaniel.  The  influence  of 
priests  rests, upon  the  idea  that  they  are  endowed  with 
attributes  denied  to  common  men ;  that  they  only  can 
interpret  God's  word  and  declare  his  will.  But  our  God 
speaks  not  in  riddling  oracles,  and  why  should  he  want 
an  interpreter  between  himself  and  the  soul  which  came 
forth  from  him  ?  Nor  are  these  priests  in  any  way  better 
than  we  be.  No  extra  sense  is  given  them  for  the  great 
place  .they  usurp.  They  have  a  full  tale  of  mortal  frail 
ties.  They  are  sick  as  other  men  are,  and  death  comes 
to  them  with  no  special  reverence.  Then  thou  must  see 
that  if  men  listen  to  the  voice  of  God  within  them  the 
voice  of  the  priest  must  fail,  and  the  power  of  the  minis 
ters  will  be  broken.  They  are  their  own  Diana ;  and  they 
would  persecute  Paul,  or  Peter,  or  Christ  himself,  if  they 
preached  anything  by  which  their  craft  was  in  danger  to 
be  set  at  naught.  Dost  thou  wonder,  then,  that  Friends 
are  hated  by  them  ?  That  John  Wilson,  priest  in  Boston, 
should  scream  out  in  his  pulpit,  '  I  would  carry  fire  in 
one  hand  and  fagots  in  the  other,  and  burn  all  the  Quak 
ers  in  the  world.'  That  John  Higginson,  another  priest, 
-ihould  preach,  '  The  Inner  Light  is  a  stinking  vapour  from 
Hell.'  That  John  Rayner,  a  priest  of  Dover,  should  stand 
laughing  for  joy  to  see  Man'  Tomkins  and  Alice  Ambrose 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE.  431 

flogged  through  the  town  on  a  freezing  day  for  saying 
'  the  Inner  Light  was  none  other  but  Christ,  who  lighteth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world.'  " 

"  Oh  !  I  wonder  men  with  English  blood  in  them 
suffered  such  things  in  their  sight  and  hearing." 

"  They  did  not.  The  priests  gloried  in  stripes  and 
torture,  but  the  people  cut  the  bleeding  women  from  the 
cart  which  dragged  them,  and  saved  them  from  an  awful 
death.  Priest  Norton  sneered  and  mocked  at  the  agonies 
of  William  Brend,  but  the  people  of  Boston  succoured  the 
victim  of  one  hundred  and  seventeen  lashes  as  he  lay 
senseless  on  the  floor  of  his  dark  cell.  Charles  Chauncy, 
preaching,  told  his  congregation,  since  '  they  could  not 
have  the  blood  of  the  Southwicks  by  law,  to  kill  them 
like  wolves.'  Oh,  and  much  more  I  could  add,  Nathaniel ; 
for  priests  have  ever  exhausted  human  torments  in  slay 
ing  those  who  rebelled  against  the  enslavement  of  their 
own  souls." 

"  We  are  free  men,  Roger." 

"  Not  if  our  noblest  part  is  in  thrall  to  a  man-made 
priesthood.  But  I  can  see  the  day  surely  coming  when 
men,  having  full  liberty  of  thought  and  speech  and 
worship,  shall  reverence  the  names  of  those  despised 
Quakers." 

"  Yea,  Roger ;  and  great  as  are  the  givers  of  political 
freedom,  the  men  who  have  wrestled  for  us  with  the 
powers  of  darkness  for  spiritual  freedom  will  be  the 
heroes  who  shall  have  the  world's  eternal  gratitude." 

"  And  then,  Nathaniel,  truly  these  men,  who  are  now 
thought  to  be  nobodies,  who  are  dead  and  buried,  shall 
have  their  lives  searched,  and  their  memory  shall  be 
hallowed  forever." 

He  ceased  suddenly,  with  the  glow  of  this  anticipated 
triumph  lighting  up  his  rugged  face,  and  kindling  his 


432  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

dreamy,  wistful  eyes  into  a  flame  of  rapturous  predic 
tion.  Then  there  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
Nathaniel,  with  a  heart  full  of  happiness,  watched  Olivia 
setting  out  the  service  for  the  midday  meal,  and  going 
in  and  out  about  her  household  duties  with  the  same 
serene  grace  and  dignity  that  had  made  her  so  charm 
ing  as  mistress  of  Sandys.  Indeed  this  beloved  interest 
had  been  so  present  that  Roger's  passionate  arraignment 
and  prophetic  justification  had  not  touched  Nathaniel 
as  they  might  have  done.  In  his  own  happiness  it  was 
so  difficult  to  be  sorrowful  for  the  misery  of  others ;  in 
the  joy  of  the  present  hour  he  did  not  feel  much  the 
satisfaction  of  some  far-off  victory  over  wrong. 

It  cost  him  a  slight  effort  to  say,  "  King  Charles  has 
also  been  kind  to  the  Friends  in  England.  Many  are 
out  of  prison,  and  they  have  a  sort  of  right  to  speak 
for  themselves.  A  few  days  before  I  left,  John  Duttred 
met  a  Friend  in  open  argument  in  Kendal  town-hall." 

Roger  lifted  his  face  to  Nathaniel's,  and  there  was  a 
fine  pity  on  it  as  he  answered,  — 

"  With  such  clumsy  tools  as  arguments  and  logic,  men 
only  fumble  at  the  lock  of  the  spiritual  world.  I  tell 
thee,  Nathaniel,  that  if  thou  desirest  truth,  seek  it  by 
listening  to  the  voice  of  God  in  thy  soul.  Divine  faith 
and  love  come  not  through  the  reason  or  the  intellect ; 
they  are  a  divine  work  in  the  soul. 

" '  Who  that  one  moment  hath  the  least  descried  Him, 
Dimly  and  faintly,  hidden  and  afar, 
Doth  not  despise  all  excellence  beside  Him  ? 
Pleasures  and  powers  that  are  not,  and  that  are  ? '  " 

"  Yea ;  if  we  had  all  vision,  Roger." 
"Vision  in  the  spiritual  world  is  like  vision  in  the 
natural  world,  —  of  no  use  unless  there  is   light.     Be 


FOR  LOVE'S  SAKE. 


433 


more  inward  with  thy  God,  Nathaniel.  If  thou  canst 
commune  with  thy  own  spirit,  canst  thou  not  also  com 
mune  with  the  Spirit  of  God  which  is  within  thee  ?  A 
poor  man,  a  poor  man  indeed,  is  he  who  has  not  been 
far  beyond  arguments  and  logic  in  spiritual  matters." 

"  You  go  deep  and  high,  yet  I  presume  not  to  limit." 

"  Who  can  limit  the  experiences  of  a  soul  bared  to  all 
the  influences  of  God's  special  revelations?  It  is  im 
possible  to  say  what  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  will  do  for 
those  willing  to  live  through  him  as  he  lives  through 
the  Father." 

"  As  regards  this  world,  Roger,  nothing  has  happened 
as  you  expected  ?  " 

"The  plans  I  made  failed,  for  God  had  better  ones. 
I  thought  to  do  so  and  so,  but  from  which  things  I  have 
been  hindered  and  withholden  by  that  Hand  which  is 
my  guide  and  helper." 

Spiritual  things  had  become  so  much  Roger's  life  that 
it  was  not  until  the  close  of  the  day  that  he  remembered 
certain  worldly  affairs  would  have  to  be  attended  to  in 
regard  to  his  daughter's  marriage.  "  Thou  wilt  have  to 
take  thy  wife  without  money,  Nathaniel;  I  have  spent 
much  and  I  shall  spend  all  in  the  cause  of  truth.  For 
this  reason  God  blessed  me  in  my  business,  and  when  I 
would  have  sat  down  in  fair  Sandys  he  tore  my  nest  to 
pieces  and  said  unto  me,  '  Go  east  and  west  and  preach 
a  free  and  everlasting  gospel.'  " 

"  I  want  neither  gold  nor  silver.     I  want  only  Olivia." 

"  My  sister  Hannah  is  indeed  rich,  and  in  the  way  of 
prob.ibilities  —  "  - 

"  We  will  not  speak  of  them." 

"  Thou  wilt  be  a  kind  husband  to  her?  " 

"  I  promise  it." 

Roger's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  Olivia  coming  into 


434  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

the  room  quickly  noticed  his  emotion.  She  went  to 
him,  and  laying  her  cheek  against  his  cheek,  said,  — 

"  Father,  if  thou  art  sorrowful,  where  then  is  our 
joy?" 

"  Though  I  drop  tears,  think  not  that  I  am  left  com 
fortless.  The  same  goodness  that  was  my  morning  light 
is  now  my  evening  song.  I  have  an  apprehension  of 
duty  to  visit  the  West  Indies.  When  thou  art  gone 
away  with  Nathaniel  I  shall  go  there." 

"  'Tis  a  long  way,  Father." 

"  Far  or  near,  every  way  is  the  way  home.  I  have 
often  gone  through  the  wilderness  hungry  and  thirsty  and 
weary  as  to  the  flesh,  but  so  upheld  by  His  Spirit  that  I 
felt  as  if  my  feet  took  no  hold  on  the  ground." 

Then  he  rose  and  went  out  to  some  Friends  sitting  in 
the  shade  of  a  great  tree,  but  his  smile  was  a  benediction 
as  he  left  the  lovers  together. 


XXI. 
KELDERBY  AND   SANDYS. 

"  She  surpassed 

All  of  her  own  age  in  beauty  and  mind, 
Therefore  the  noblest  man  of  wide  Troy  married  her." 

"  After  Sorrow's  night 
Dawned  the  morning  bright; 
In  dewy  woods  I  heard 
A  golden-throated  bird, 

And  '  Love,  love,  love,'  it  sang, 
And  '  Love,  love,  love.' '' 

A  S  Nathaniel  wished  to  return  by  the  same  ship  that 
•**•  brought  him  to  America,  it  was  necessary  to  hasten 
the  arrangements  for  his  marriage  with  Olivia.  But  these 
were  of  the  simplest  description,  for  both  Puritans  and 
Friends  alike  regarded  the  marriage  covenant  as  one  of 
too  solemn  and  significant  a  character  to  be  consum 
mated  with  laughter  and  merry-making. 

The  weather  was  singularly  beautiful.  The  late  Indian 
summer  lingered  for  the  lovers'  joy.  They  spent  hours 
together  in  the  still  forest,  conscious  of  the  serene  sky 
above  them  and  of  the  woody  fragrance  which  their 
soft,  slow  feet  pressed  from  out  the  fallen  leaves,  as 
anew  and  anew  they  told  their  hearts  to  each  other,  in 
words  old  as  Paradise,  yet  young  and  fresh  as  to-day's 
poet  sings  them. 

"  I  love  you,  sweet !  How  can  you  ever  learn  how 
much  I  love  you?  " 

"  Thee  I  love  even  so,  and  so  I  learn  it." 


436  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

"  Sweet,  you  cannot  know  how  fair  you  are." 

"  If  fair  enough  to  earn  thy  love,  so  much  is  all  my 
love's  concern." 

"  My  love  grows  hourly,  sweet." 

"  Mine  too  doth  grow,  yet  love  seemed  full  so  many 
hours  ago." 

"  Ah !  happy  they  to  whom  such  words  as  these 

In  youth  have  served  for  speech  the  whole  day  long, 
Hour  after  hour  remote  from  the  world's  throng  ; 
Work,  contest,  fame,  all  life's  confederate  pleas, 
What  while  Love  breathed  in  sighs  and  silences, 
Through  two  blent  souls,  one  rapturous  under-song." 

But  at  length  the  sweet,  short  interval  was  over.  The 
ship  was  ready  to  sail  with  the  evening  tide,  and  in  the 
morning  about  twenty  Friends  gathered  at  "  Prideaux's  " 
to  witness  the  troth- plighting.  The  Countess  Mordee 
was  among  them.  On  the  day  previous  she  had  brought 
to  Olivia  a  present  of  some  exquisite  lace  of  Brussels,  and 
remained  to  assist  her  in  its  arrangement  upon  the  white 
lawn  which  was  to  be  the  wedding  garment. 

So  that  Nathaniel  did  not  take  his  bride  without  some 
of  the  insignia  of  the  wonderful  event.  Fairies  might 
have  woven  the  delicate,  transpicuous  tissue  of  flowers 
of  finest  thread  which  gave  to  her  simple  robe  the  effect 
of  lace-like  gossamer.  A  veil  of  the  same  illusive  beauty 
fell  across  her  bright  brown  hair.  A  Bible  bound  in  sil 
ver  —  also  the  gift  of  the  motherly  countess  —  was  in 
her  hand.  "  Look  now,  Olivia,"  she  said ;  "  it  was  the 
gift  of  a  very  good  man.  It  was  my  own  wedding  book, 
and  upon  it  I  have  asked  for  thyself  and  thy  husband 
the  marriage  blessing  desired  by  the  young  Hebrew 
bridegroom,  —  '  Mercifully  ordain  that  we  may  grow  old 
together.'  "  And  tears  of  fond  remembrance  filled  her 
eyes :  she  looked  backward  nearly  fifty  years  to  see  her 


KELDERBY  AND  SANDYS.  437 

own  bridal,  and  then,  mid-way  life,  the  green  grave  of 
her  companion. 

At  sunset  the  hour  of  parting  came,  but  it  was  not  a 
parting  without  hope.  Roger  had  such  a  confidence  in 
the  love  of  God  that  he  believed  he  would  sometime  send 
him  by  way  of  England,  and  thus  permit  him  to  see  his 
daughter's  happiness  in  her  own  home  and  native  land. 
A  few  natural  tears  were  shed,  and  then  Nathaniel  and 
Olivia  looked  together  into  their  future  with  the  gladness 
of  those  who  have  no  self-reproaches. 

In  about  ten  weeks  they  were  in  London ;  and  a  few 
hours  after  their  arrival  Nathaniel,  walking  on  the  Strand, 
met  Baron  Strickland  and  his  bride. 

"  I  count  this  a  fortunate  meeting,"  said  the  young 
noble,  "  for  I  assure  you  it  is  full  time  you  kissed  the 
king's  hand.  If  your  friends  had  not  been  as  ready  to 
make  excuses  as  your  enemies  were  to  make  complaints, 
I  surely  think  ere  this  the  Kelders  would  have  lost 
Kelderby." 

"  It  is  your  kindness  I  must  honour,  Strickland,  and 
your  advice  goes  well  with  my  own  intentions." 

"  I  shall  see  the  king  to-night.  Let  me  ask  for  an 
audience  for  you." 

"  You  will  do  me  a  great  service  if  you  do." 

"  I  will  bring  you  word  to-morrow.  If  his  Majesty 
receives  your  visit  and  accepts  your  allegiance,  it  puts 
you  out  of  all  fear." 

The  friendship  intended  by  this  offer  was  gratefully  ac 
cepted,  and  the  following  day  Strickland  brought  a  favour 
able  answer.  The  evening  named,  however,  would  occa 
sion  a  delay  in  London  of  nearly  two  weeks. 

"A  fortunate  delay,"  said  Strickland.  "It  will  per 
mit  you  to  provide  a  suitable  dress.  And  let  me  assure 
you  that  the  king  is  a  great  observer  of  such  matters." 


438  FRIEND  OLIVIA. 

This  was  good  news  to  accompany  the  letters  to  Kel- 
derby  and  Mettelane,  and  the  messenger  was  urged  to 
make  all  possible  speed.  In  both  homes  he  was  ex 
pected  and  watched  for.  Love  is  a  close  calculator,  and 
the  possibility  of  his  arrival  had  been  surmised  for  some 
days. 

The  winter  hitherto  had  been  an  open  one,  but  there 
was  every  sign  of  an  approaching  storm.  With  anxious 
hearts  the  baron  and  Lady  Kelder  watched  it  coming. 
The  distant  hills  were  already  turbaned  with  great  bands 
of  snow ;  the  bleak,  leafless  garden  was  still  and  sad  un 
der  the  lowering,  threatening  clouds;  the  dull  sky  was 
fast  darkening  down  to  the  edges  of  the  dull  sea.  The 
baron  walked  thoughtfully  about  the  room ;  Lady  Kelder 
had  her  "  Book  of  Religious  Meditations  "  upon  her  knee, 
but  her  own  meditations  were  far  closer  to  her  sympa 
thies.  Then  came  the  sharp  shower  of  sonorous  hail,  and 
after  it  the  soft,  thick  flakes  of  the  mesmerizing  snow. 
While  the  storm  lasted  day  to  day  must  be  so  like,  —  so 
very  like. 

The  baron  sat  hopelessly  down,  and  with  Lady  Kelder 
began  to  count  again  the  weeks  of  Nathaniel's  absence, 
and  to  persuade  themselves  it  was  really  foolish  to  expect 
his  arrival  for  some  indefinite  time.  While  they  were 
thus  engaged  Jael  entered,  and  with  suppressed  excite 
ment  said, — 

"  Here  be  a  gentlemanly  make  of  a  man  from  London, 
—  from  the  young  master.  All  is  well,  my  Lady,  —  well 
as  can  be;  nothing  but  prosperation,  as  I  can  hear  of; 
and  God  bless  us  all ! " 

" Bring  him  here  at  once,  Jael.     Why  not?  " 

"  My  Lady,  he  is  beat  out,  and  is  having  a  few  odd 
ments  of  meat  and  bread.  He  left  Kendal  at  strike  of 
day,  and  has  had  a  fight  to  get  in  with  the  storm." 


KELDERBY  AND  SANDYS.  439 

The  storm  now  meant  little  to  Kelderby.  Nathaniel 
was  in  London  with  his  wife.  Nathaniel  was  going  to 
court  with  her,  and  in  that  event  it  was  likely  the  weary 
suspense  they  had  so  long  endured  would  be  over.  Every 
one  was  so  greatly  excited  that  Lady  Kelder  could  not 
avoid  a  little  scornful  criticism  on  the  mood. 

"  I  vow,  they  are  as  set  up  with  the  coming  of  the  bride 
as  if  it  were  her  Majesty ;  but,  God  knows,  it  is  the  feast 
ing  they  look  for  that  moves  them  so.  Quaker  or  queen 
will  do  for  an  occasion." 

"  Is  feasting  a  necessity,  Joan  ?  " 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  Odinel,  if  we  make  not  some  show 
of  company  our  neighbours  will  say  the  bride  is  not  to  our 
liking.  And  matters  being  as  they  are,  the  bride  is  very 
much  to  our  liking,  —  as  far  as  the  general  public  are 
concerned." 

"  I  think,  dear,  that  privately  also  we  shall  soon  enjoy 
the  same  opinion." 

"  Odinel,  what  say  you  ?  Shall  we  ask  Mistress  Met- 
telane  to  meet  her  niece  here?" 

"  It  is  a  kind  thought,  Joan ;  't  is  most  like  you.  There 
is  no  holdback  in  your  grace." 

The  praise  was  pleasant  to  her,  and  she  smiled  with  a 
happy  complaisance  as  she  added,  "  I  have  a  mind  now 
to  take,  with  Olivia,  all  that  belongs  to  her." 

"  Mistress  Mettelane  is  a  good  woman,  and  well  spoken 
of.  She  is  rich,  also,  and  it  may  be  — 

"  If  she  be  rich,  that  is  a  cloak  big  enough  to  cover  all 
her  faults.  But  in  truth,  Odinel,  I  thought  not  of  her 
riches.  I  am  sure  that  some  will  want  to  talk  to  me  about 
Olivia  as  if  they  disparaged  Nathaniel's  wife,  and  I  shall 
not  let  slip  such  occasions  to  say,  '  Here  is  also  my  daugh 
ter's  aunt,  Mistress  Mettelane,  and  a  very  dear  friend  of 
mine.'  If  all  others  are  silent,  be  sure  Mistress  Duttred 


44O  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

will  push  in  Olivia's  Quakerism.  She  will  find  ways  and 
means  to  bring  in  that  discourse,  though  it  be  by  head 
and  shoulders ;  and  it  is  most  like  to  be  in  a  manner  of 
pleasing  me  by  praising  me.  '  'T  is  a  great  trial  as  ever 
any  poor  lady  had,  and  you  have  a  large  charity,'  and 
the  like  words ;  and  I  shall  say,  '  Mistress  Duttred,  there 
is  greater  charity  in  the  Word  than  you  and  I  have  yet 
found  out,  and  't  was  there  I  got  the  warrant,  not  only  to 
love  my  neighbour,  but  to  judge  her  not.'  Oh,  I  assure 
you,  Odinel,  that  if  our  friends  will  flout  at  either  they 
shall  be  forced  to  their  ill-nature  without  a  veil  of  my 
finding." 

When  the  storm  was  over  the  proposed  invitation  was 
sent  to  Mistress  Mettelane,  and  the  preparations  for  Na 
thaniel  and  his  bride  commenced.  Concerning  them 
Lady  Kelder  was  almost  hypersensitive.  The  finest  wing 
in  the  house  was  chosen  for  their  occupancy,  and  she 
took  a  careful  pleasure  in  making  everything  in  it  fit  her 
own  exact  and  rigorous  ideas  of  what  was  included  in  her 
promise  to  accept  Olivia  as  her  daughter. 

Yet  alone  she  had  moments  of  bitterest  sorrow,  and 
she  did  not  look  forward  to  the  consummation  of  her 
personal  sacrifice  without  many  mournful  reflections. 

"I  shall  never  feel  the  same  again.  Kelderby  will 
never  be  the  same :  a  strange  woman  going  about  the 
house,  —  always  there,  morning,  noon,  and  night ;  how 
can  I  bear  it?  I  have  been  chief  and  only  here  ;  now  I 
shall  have  to  endure  the  homage  given  to  this  superex- 
celling  creature.  I  shall  even  be  obliged  to  add  my 
pinch  of  incense  to  the  general  oblation  burnt  in  her 
honour.  'T  is  a  hard  case,  indeed,  to  have  to  change  all 
when  life  is  so  near  its  close.  WTell,  then,  it  is  perhaps 
the  loosing  of  the  link  which  is  to  scatter  the  whole  chain. 
God  help  me  !  He  only  knows  how  much  easier  it  is  to 


KELDERBY  AND  SANDYS.  441 

make  a  fine  resolution  than  to  work  it  out  hour  by  hour, 
and  day  by  day." 

There  were  a  few  tears  in  her  eyes,  —  the  tears  of  age 
are  cold  and  few.  Once  her  heartache  would  have  been 
washed  away  in  a  warm  and  plenteous  rain,  leaving  life 
calm  and  clear-skyed  after  it ;  now  such  clarifying  storms 
were  almost  impossible  to  her. 

She  was  taking  from  her  dower  chests  scented  linen 
and  fine  tapestry  hangings,  and  the  act  was  a  tangible 
translation  of  the  sacredness  of  her  promise.  Was  it 
made  less  precious  by  the  heavy  solitary  drops  that 
sealed  its  honesty  of  purpose  ?  Alas,  no  !  the  sorrows 
of  the  aged  must  count  for  double.  Their  sense  of  loss 
looks  for  no  redemption -from  the  morrow. 

The  baron  never  guessed  how  hard  a  "discipline  his 
wife  was  bearing,  or  he  would  have  made  it  lighter  by  a 
constant  loving  sympathy ;  and  the  household  mainly 
believed  her  to  be  thoroughly  enjoying  the  coming 
change.  Jael,  however,  knew  precisely  how  her  lady 
carried  the  cup  she  had  to  drink ;  for  to  Jael  Lady  Kel- 
der  made  few  pretences  of  any  kind  ;  and  having  once 
signified  her  resolution  to  receive  Nathaniel's  wife  pub 
licly  with  honourable  welcome,  she  permitted  herself 
privately  that  sincerity  of  speech  which  she  knew  Jael 
would  respect. 

It  was  some  gratification  also  to  point  out  her  self- 
denial  ;  even  Jael's  approval  was  pleasant.  It  was  in 
deed  the  only  human  approval  she  could  expect,  and 
there  are  few  hearts  whom  the  Divinity  quite  satisfies. 

"  If  my  son  were  bringing  me  a  daughter  worthy  of 
my  utmost  honour,  could  I  do  more,  Jael?  I  intend 
Nathaniel's  wife  to  have  all  her  due,  Jael." 

"  My  Lady,  you  have  been  generous  beyond  all,  —  the 
best  room,  the  newest  furniture,  a  maid  hired  for  my 


442  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

young  lady's  own  use.  If  you  could  only  give  her  a 
little  love  —  " 

"  Love  is  not  bought  in  the  market-place,  Jael.  I  try 
to  be  considerate.  Is  not  Mistress  Mettelane  asked  to 
meet  her  niece  ?  At  any  hour  now  I  may  have  to  enter 
tain  her ;  and  she  is  quite  my  inferior,  and  a  church- 
woman  as  well.  I  know  little  about  church- women." 

"  They  aim  to  be  about  right,  I  should  say,  my  Lady. 
And  as  we  begin  to  age  we  can  give  our  hearts  a  bit  of 
favour,  and  leave  the  young  ones  to  see  that  things  are 
kept  straight.  Mistress  Mettelane  wrote  you  a  very  proper 
letter.  I  never  heard  tell  of  a  properer  one.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  that  it  was  well  such  a  good  one  had 
had  the  bringing  up  of  Master  Nathaniel's  wife.  She  's 
well  come  of,  I  '11  warrant." 

She  is  a  statesman's1  daughter,  and  some  of  these 
statesmen  have  coats-of-arms  older  than  a  crusader.  I 
don't  know  about  the  Mettelanes'." 

"  We  may  as  well  hope  they  are  pretty  old.  But  this 
or  that,  she  has  plenty  of  the  '  wherewith  ; '  and  it  is  little 
matter,  my  Lady,  whether  gold  be  old  or  freshly  minted." 

"  If  the  girl  were  not  a  Quakeress." 

"  My  Lady,  a  rose  is  a  rose  wherever  it  grows." 

"  But  differences  in  roses,  Jael,  —  hedge  roses  and 
garden  roses.  You  cannot  pin  a  woman  with  a  proverb. 
And  if  you  don't  want  roses  of  any  kind,  what  then, 
Jael?  I  have  shed  more  tears  lately  than  I  thought 
ever  to  shed  again." 

"  If  your  heart  is  full,  weep,  my  Lady ;  't  is  the  un 
shed  tears  that  are  never  wiped  away." 

Such  conversations  had  their  use ;  for  to  do  kind 
deeds,  and  then  take  in  private  a  little  grumble  about 
their  necessity,  is  the  condition  making  much  public 

l  A  landowner 


KELDERBY  AA'D  SAA'DYS.  443 

virtue  possible  ;  and  many  a  trouble  comes  with  a  bless 
ing  in  its  hand.  When  Hannah  Mettelane  arrived,  the 
hospitable  instincts  of  Lady  Kelder  led  her  to  give  a 
welcome  whose  kindness  left  nothing  to  desire,  and 
every  moment  afterward  the  two  women  drew  closer 
together. 

On  the  third  evening  of  her  visit,  they  were  going 
together  through  the  rooms  which  had  been  put  in  such 
beautiful  order  for  the  coming  bride.  Hannah  Mette 
lane  walked  between  the  baron  and  Lady  Kelder ;  and 
having  admired  and  suggested  until  the  subject  was 
exhausted,  they  sat  down  before  the  blazing  fire  which 
was  already  brightening  Nathaniel's  private  parlour. 

Hannah  had  become  very  quiet.  Her  heart  was  busy, 
and  her  large,  intelligent  eyes  moved  with  a  slow  specu 
lation  between  her  companions. 

"  You  have  made  a  home  beyond  everything  for  the 
children,"  she  said ;  "  and  I  know  about  what  it  costs. 
I  mean  in  love,  and  in  other  feelings  mayhap  still  more 
unselfish.  I  could  n't  have  done  it.  I  like  my  house  to 
myself,  and  I  had  my  little  plan  about  the  children. 
You  see,  I  thought  of  Sandys." 

"  Sandys  !  "  said  the  baron.  "  I  thought  your  brother 
sold  Sandys." 

"  He  sold  it  to  me.  I  thought  it  a  pity  to  let  such 
a  fine  bit  of  land  go  out  of  the  family.  Indeed,  after 
Cromwell's  death  it  would  have  been  hard  for  Roger  to 
get  any  one  to  look  at  the  title  he  could  give ;  and  many 
thought  in  the  general  turn-up  at  the  king's  home 
coming  the  heir-at-law  would  be  found." 

"  I  think  myself  it  was  a  great  risk  to  take." 

"  But,  counting  all  these  risks,  I  got  Sandys  for  a  little 
price,  though  't  was  money  enough  for  the  unlikely 
things  driving  my  brother  to  strange  lands.  Then  by 


444  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

using  such  friends  as  I  had  claim  upon,  I  made  haste  to 
certify  my  right ;  and  looking  forward  always  to  the 
marriage  of  my  niece  with  your  son,  I  have  kept  the 
place  in  such  order  as  its  worth  asked  for." 

"  Indeed,  such  order  as  constantly  raised  the  wonder  of 
all." 

"  So  you  see  "  —  and  she  spoke  slowly,  with  her  eyes 
dropped,  and  a  happy  smile  lighting  her  large,  calm  face 
—  '•  it  is  ready  for  its  owners.  For  if  Olivia  married  the 
heir  of  Kelderby,  Nathaniel  Kelder  married  the  mistress 
of  Sandys.  A  week  ago  I  made  it  over,  house  and  land, 
silver  and  furnishings  of  every  kind,  to  Olivia  Kelder; 
and  may  God  bless  the  house  forever !  " 

"  Mistress  Mettelane,  this  is  indeed  great  news,"  said 
the  baron,  "  and  we  cannot  but  take  it  well  of  you.  'T  is 
a  noble  home,  indeed  it  is." 

"  And,  as  I  thought,  near  to  Kelder,  and  not  far  away 
from  Mettelane.  In  my  home,  also,  there  shall  be  rooms 
made  ready  for  the  children's  visit ;  but  I  know  right 
surely  that  age  dwells  not  happily  with  youth,  and  that 
youth  soon  grows  sad  with  age." 

"Think  you  so?  " 

"  In  truth  I  do.  Age  is  the  chapel  of  life.  When  we 
sit  down  in  its  quiet,  the  busy  cares  and  pleasures  of  youth 
come  into  it  like  an  offence.  I  know  it  is  well  for  all 
that  Nathaniel  and  Olivia  should  have  their  own  home. 
I  hope  that  it  may  be  Sandys." 

"They  could  have  no  fairer  or  finer  one,"  said  Lady 
Kelder,  softly.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  she  drew 
her  chair  nearer  to  Hannah's  and  took  her  large,  capable 
hand  within  the  clasp  of  her  own  small  ones.  A  kind  in 
telligence  that  needed  no  speech  passed  from  face  to 
face.  From  that  moment  they  were  true  friends. 

"  The  silver  and  linen,  the  crystal  and  the  fine  pewter 


KELDERBY  AND  SAA'DYS.  445 

service,  with  the  curious  ornaments  I  have  had  at  Mette- 
lane,  — they  left  Ambleside  in  Stephen  Airey's  wagon, 
and  must  now  be  at  Sandys.  If  you,  my  lady,  will  go 
over  there  with  me,  we  can  see  to  their  unpicking  and 
safe  bestowal.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  all  the  old  servants 
are  already  there.  The  women  have  worked  on  D  'Acre's 
land,  one  way  or  another,  since  Sandys  shut ;  and  I  called 
on  Jane  D  'Acre  as  I  passed,  and  she  was  crying  happy 
at  my  news,  and  D  'Acre  said  Olivia's  old  women  should 
all  be  loosed  from  his  claim  and  go  back  to  Sandys.  The 
D  'Acres  will  be  good  friends,  I  trow." 

"  If  they  get  not  cool  or  hot  on  their  religion,"  said 
Lady  Kelder,  scornfully.  "  As  for  me,  I  think  D'  Acre  a 
fair-weather  friend." 

"  I  heard  that  he  stood  not  trial.  But,  dear  me  !  we 
must  n't  ask  friends  to  think  as  we  do.  T  is  too  much, 
and  beyond  all.  If  souls  were  all  made  on  one  pattern, 
then  possible,  perhaps ;  but,  God  knows,  souls  differ  as 
much  as  faces,  —  not  two  alike.  What  then,  Baron  ?  " 

"  Charity,  Mistress  Mettelane.  If  we  could  only  love 
each  other  half  as  well  as  God  loves  us  all." 

"  Not  being  God,  we  could  n't  do  it,  Baron,"  said  Lady 
Kelder ;  "  and  God  knows  that  there  are  some  people  God 
himself  could  n't  love,  —  no,  not  even  for  Christ's  sake. 
Let  us  not  talk  of  them.  Tis  better  to  go  to  bed 
and  sleep  on  the  good  fortune  Mistress  Mettelane  has 
brought  us ;  for,  if  she  will,  we  shall  take  the  road  for 
Sandys  very  early  in  the  morning." 

Her  face  shone  with  pleasure  and  kindness  as  she  rose, 
and  in  the  noble,  smiling  inclination  of  her  head  to  Han 
nah  Mettelane  she  expressed  a  grateful  happiness  that 
delighted  the  simple,  truthful  woman.  And  that  night 
Lady  Kelder  was  conscious  of  a  gratitude  that  humbled 
and  silenced  her.  Had  she  not  been  grudging  Olivia  a 


446  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

few  rooms  in  Kelderby,  and  lo  !  the  stately  home  of 
Sandys  was  waiting  for  her?  Had  she  not  been  fretting 
at  the  introduction  of  a  new  element  into  her  life,  when 
too  old  to  desire  it,  and  there  had  never  been  any  foun- 
i  dation  for  the  fear  except  in  her  own  heart? 

"  It  was  not  necessary  to  God's  goodness,"  she  said 
sadly.  "Wanting  to  bless  Nathaniel  and  Olivia,  he  has 
done  it  without  my  help."  Tears  filled  her  eyes  and  she 
murmured,  "  I  tried  hard,  indeed  I  did  !  If  God  had 
only  understood  —  "  The  Baron  entered  at  the  moment, 
and  she  voiced  her  heartache  to  him. 

"  Indeed,  dear  heart,  I  think  God  did  understand. 
He  saw  you  wished  to  be  unselfish,  and  he  said,  '  It  is 
enough.  That  will  do.'  Think  you  he  did  not  under 
stand  how  precious  the  quiet  of  Kelderby  was  to  both  of 
us?  Joan,  our  God  is  such  a  one  as  cares  for  our  little 
likings,  and  is  heedful  of  our  daily  happiness." 

"  How  provoking  kings  are  !  Charles  might  have  seen 
Nathaniel  on  the  asking.  Then  he  would  have  been 
home  ere  this." 

"  Never  hurry  your  happiness,  Joan.  And  I  think  it 
was  not  the  king's  fault,  but  Strickland's  kindness.  Doubt 
less  he  thought  of  such  an  important  matter  as  court 
dresses,  and  in  that  respect  sought  time  for  the  children." 

The  delay  in  London,  however,  had  not  been  a  profit 
less  or  unpleasant  one  to  Nathaniel  and  Olivia.  During 
it  their  friendship  with  the  Stricklands  had  been  placed 
upon  a  lasting  basis ;  for  each  had  discovered  many 
personal  sympathies  besides  such  as  sprung  from  the 
similarity  of  their  domestic  and  social  condition  and  their 
identity  of  interests  as  future  neighbours. 

At  length  the  evening  appointed  for  their  interview  with 
the  king  arrived,  and  they  went  together  to  Whitehall, 


KELDERBY  AND  SAKDYS.  447 

making  a  sufficiently  remarkable  group  both  individually 
and  by  way  of  contrast.  Marmaduke  Strickland,  repre 
senting  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  England,  and  a  pas 
sionate  royalist  in  sentiment,  was  arrayed  in  all  the 
splendor  of  the  Stuart  fashions ;  but  so  lofty  was  his 
stature  and  so  imposing  his  manner,  that  he  carrie  1  with 
a  certain  fitness  of  courtly  manhood  the  long,  flowing 
curls  and  flaunting  finery  of  his  order.  His  beautiful 
young  wife  wore  her  bride-dress  of  gold  brocade,  and  its 
jewelled  bodice  and  long  train  were  but  the  suitable  ac 
companiments  of  the  gems  which  glittered  in  her  hair, 
and  lay  on  her  bosom,  and  clasped  her  bare  arms. 

Behind  so  noticeable  a  couple  Nathaniel  and  Olivia 
were  still  more  noticeable ;  for  Nathaniel's  suit  of 
Genoa  velvet  and  Genoa  point  was  made  with  Puritan 
simplicity,  and  Olivia's  dress  of  soft  white  satin  was  with 
out  a  single  jewel.  Its  only  ornament  was  the  large  col 
lar  of  Brussels  lace  which  covered  her  throat  and  her 
bosom,  and  the  cuffs  of  the  same  material,  which  were 
turned  back  over  the  long  satin  sleeves  almost  to  the 
elbows.  But  the  glistening  of  her  garments,  the  radiant 
serenity  of  her  face,  and  her  starry  eyes,  gave  her  a 
singular  charm.  She  appeared  to  shine  where  she  stood. 
And  the  easy  grace  and  confidence  of  her  manner  were 
a  wonder  even  to  her  companions ;  for  none  at  that 
moment  reflected  that  the  soul  accustomed  to  contem 
plate  the  solemnities  of  eternity  is  not  to  be  affected 
by  the  gilded  show  of  what  is  constantly  passing  away. 
Yet  the  scene  through  which  she  walked  was  to  her  a 
very  strange  one,  and  as  far  apart  from  her  sympathies 
and  intelligence  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 

The  large  apartments  were  brilliantly  lighted,  and  the 
air  was  heavy  with  many  pei fumes  and  the  rich  odours  of 
southern  wines.  Gayly  dressed  dissolute  women  and 


448  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

men  were  playing  basset  around  a  large  table,  with  a  ter 
rible  eagerness.  Their  sharp,  strained  voices  and  the 
chink,  chink  of  gold  mingled  with  the  notes  of  a  French 
boy  singing  love-songs,  with  laughter  half  subdued,  with 
the  rustle  of  silken  garments  and  the  gurgle  of  flowing 
liquors. 

The  king  sat  amid  a  bevy  of  handsome  women,  toying 
with  the  loosened  hair  of  one  who  held  in  her  hand  a  gob 
let  of  wine,  —  everywhere  around  the  god  of  this  world 
and  the  great  lord  of  lusts  ruling  with  prodigal  wantonness. 

But  Charles  knew  how  to  assume  in  a  moment  the  at 
titude  belonging  to  the  king  of  a  great  people.  He 
stepped  majestically  forward  and  won  Strickland's  heart 
anew  by  a  greeting  at  once  respectful  and  familiar,  and 
by  the  genuine  glance  of  admiration  which  he  bestowed 
upon  his  bride.  She  knelt  to  kiss  the  hand  he  extended, 
but  Charles  quickly  raised  her,  and  touching  her  cheek 
said,  "  Kings  are  the  servants  of  beauty."  With  the  words 
he  took  a  ring  from  his  finger  and  gave  it  to  her. 

Then  Strickland  introduced  Nathaniel  Kelder,  saying, 
"  He  brings  to  your  Majesty  a  loyal  service." 

"A  recovered  loyalty  is  greatly  prized  by  us,"  an 
swered  Charles.  "  Some  of  our  subjects  do  not  credit 
us  with  much  conscience,  but  we  credit  conscience  to 
our  subjects,  — and  know  how  to  value  it."  Then,  while 
offering  his  hand  to  N  .thaniel,  he  turned  to  Olivia. 

She  was  regarding  him  with  an  almost  childish  inter 
est,  and  he  smiled  frankly  into  her  innocent  face.  It 
seemed  to  have  a  great  and  yet  not  an  offensive  attrac 
tion  to  him.  He  scarcely  heard  Nathaniel  speaking ;  he 
was  too  earnestly  trying  to  comprehend  the  pure,  wo 
manly  countenance  to  heed  words,  until  the  name  of 
Prideaux  was  mentioned.  Then  he  recollected  what 
Strickland  had  told  him  of  De  Burg  and  Kelder  and 


KELDERBY  AA'D  SAA'Dys.  449 

the  Quaker  Prideaux,  and  he  understood  the  holy  eyes, 
and  the  face  upon  which  the  dove  visibly  brooded,  and 
the  ravishing  simplicity  of  manner  and  dress.  His  glance 
went  from-  Olivia  to  Nathaniel,  and  he  regarded  both 
with  great  favour. 

"  I  think,  Mistress  Kelder,  that  the  king  has  in  you 
a  loyal  subject." 

"Yea;  for  thou  hast  been  kind  to  many  suffering 
wrongfully.  In  the  day  when  all  need  mercy,  may  God 
give  thee  mercy." 

"  Be  it  so." 

"  I  offer  thee  neither  lip  service  nor  knee  worship, 
but  my  heart  hath  none  the  less  truth  and  honour."  Then 
perceiving  him  about  to  unfasten  a  jewelled  clasp  of 
great  value,  she  said,  modestly,  — 

"  Give  me  the  rose  thou  wearest,  and  I  will  keep  it 
for  a  token  of  thy  kindness  to  me  and  to  my  people." 

Instantly  Charles  understood  her.  He  had  been  on 
the  point  of  making  her  a  much  richer  present  than  the 
one  given  to  the  wife  of  his  faithful  adherent,  —  a  present 
also  which  her  principles  forbade  her  to  wear.  But  that 
wisdom  which  springs  from  an  uaselfish  heart  had  pre 
vented  a  gift  likely  to  bring  unkindness  and  embarrass 
ment,  anl  it  was  with  a  sentiment  of  grateful  admiration 
that  he  took  the  rose  from  his  jewelled  vest  and  gave  it 
to  her. 

An  act  of  such  evident  favour  at  once  attracted  atten 
tion.  Indeed,  it  was  impossible,  in  that  company,  for 
Olivia  to  escape  a  critical  regard.  The  gift  of  the  rose 
was  to  many  who  un  lerstood  none  of  its  motives,  a  gift 
suggestive  of  the  evil  in  their  hearts.  "The  king  is 
freshly  smitten ;  '  t  is  a  love  gift,"  was  the  universal 
comment. 

Ons  woman,  however,  was  not  so  deceived.  She  saw 
29 


450  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

in  it  the  expression  of  a  respect  which  Charles  believed 
very  few  men  or  women  deserved.  It  was  Mistress 
Chenage.  She  was  with  the  players  at  the  basset  table  ; 
and  though  a  bank  of  at  least  two  thousand  pounds  in 
gold  lay  before  her,  she  was  thinking  only  of  the  king's 
rose. 

At  first  when  she  saw  Nathaniel  and  Olivia,  with  the 
Stricklands,  enter  the  royal  presence,  she  had  wisely 
determined  to  be  indifferent  to  them.  But  the  exclama 
tions  about  Olivia's  beauty,  her  angelic  face,  her  charm 
ing  simplicity,  had  been  gradually  growing  more  frequent 
and  emphatic,  and  more  difficult  for  her  to  endure.  The 
gift  of  the  rose,  attended  by  a  general  murmur  of  pleasure 
and  admiration,  roused  her  to  that  pitch  of  jealous  envy 
which  demands  the  relief  of  offensive  speech. 

As  the  Kelders  retired  from  the  audience  she  was  con 
scious  of  their  every  footstep.  The  closer  to  her  they 
came  the  more  imperative  and  insolent  her  temper  grew. 
She  turned  with  the  cards  fan-shaped  in  her  hand,  and 
watched  with  her  old  mockery  the  approach  of  the  party. 
Her  beautiful  face  was  flushed  with  wine  and  anger ;  her 
dark  hair,  combed  back  from  her  forehead,  fell  in  heavy 
curls  over  her  shoulders,  and  mingled  with  the  pearls 
that  clasped  her  slender  throat  and  the  lace  which  af 
fected  to  cover  her  bosom.  A  dress  of  pink  brocade 
and  silver  threads  clung  to  her  form  with  seductive  grace  ; 
and  she  flung  its  heavy  folds  aside  to  display  her  little 
feet,  shod  in  pink  and  silver  shoes,  as  she  rose  from  the 
table  and  stood  directly  in  the  way  of  the  retiring  visitors. 
Strickland  was  first.  She  made  him  a  sweeping  courtesy 
and  suffered  him  and  his  bride  to  pass ;  then,  in  a  chal 
lenging  voice,  she  said,  — 

"  Cousin  Nathaniel,  be  not  in  such  a  hurry  to  hide 
your  Quaker  wife.  Come  here,  Saint  Olivia.  If  you 


KELDERBY  AA'D  SAA'DYS.  451 

kiss  me,  I  vow  to  show  you  how  to  cheat  the  Devil  at  a 
game  of  basset." 

"If  thou  playest  with  the  Devil  in  any  wise  thou  wilt 
lose  thy  soul.  And  what  gain  will  profit  thee  for  that 
loss?  "  Nathaniel  could  feel  his  wife's  inward  tremor  as 
she  spoke,  but  outwardly  she  was  calm  as  a  lily  motion 
less  in  the  moonlight ;  and  with  a  stern  courtesy  he  said, 
"  We  are  in  the  king's  presence,  Cousin  Chenage.  You 
shall  show  your  anger  to  me  at  a  more  fitting  time." 

"  How  wise  are  we  grown  !  How  strangely  loyal ! 
How  beyond  all  comparison  excellent !  Here,  boy, 
I  will  give  you  a  song  for  this  great  and  grand 
monseigneur,  — 

"  Que  son  mints  est  extreme ! 
Que  de  grices  !     Que  de  grandeur  1 
Ah !  combien  monseigneur 
Doit  etre  content  de  lui-mSme." 

This  little  episode  had  not  occupied  more  time  than 
the  ordinary  salutation  of  friends  would  have  done,  but 
it  had  made  a  much  more  pronounced  impression.  The 
hurry  of  the  beautiful  Mistress  Chenage,  her  rapid 
speech,  the  excitement  which  made  her  forget  the  cards 
in  her  hands  and  led  her  to  intercept  the  king's  special 
visitors,  gave  to  the  interruption  a  marked  character.  A 
swift  intelligence  of  its  spirit  passed  through  the  great 
hall ;  the  players  held  their  next  throw  in  suspense,  the 
singing  boy  was  humming  at  Anastasia's  elbow,  "  Que  de 
graces  !  Que  de  grandeur  !  "  and  the  woman  who  was 
leaning  against  the  king's  shoulder  said, — 

"  Sire,  Chenage  hath  a  temper  again.  A  bride  or  a 
beauty  is  a  red  flag  to  her." 

Charles  laughed  with  scornful  good  nature.  "  On  my 
honour !  't  was  a  red  rose  that  bred  the  present  tern- 


452  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

per ;  "  and  the  king's  wit  raised  the  laugh  which  Anas- 
tasia  felt  she  paid  for. 

Her  game  was  every  way  lost.  While  she  was  turning 
Nathaniel's  virtues  into  a  ridiculous  rhyme,  he  had  passed 
quietly  out  of  her  presence.  Her  anger  had  missed  its 
mark,  and  she  was  equally  unsuccessful  in  her  play.  She 
lost  heavily,  she  provoked  the  temper  of  her  companions, 
she  had  evidently  offended  her  genius  by  taking  revenge 
into  her  own  hands.  Never  had  she  felt  so  utterly 
foiled  ani  humiliated. 

She  went  to  her  lodgings  in  a  fever.  "The  king 
openly  forsoothed  me,"  she  cried  passionately,  as  she 
tore  off  her  robe  of  pink  damask  and  the  pearls  from  her 
neck  and  wrists.  She  looked  at  her  long  white  arms, 
they  were  exquisitely  formed ;  she  looked  at  her  white 
throat  and  bosom,  no  woman  in  the  presence  was  lovelier 
than  herself.  But  the  king  had  "forsoothed"  her; 
treated  even  her  passion  as  matter  for  laughter.  She 
held  her  fair  face  between  her  hands  and  muttered  : 

"  Alack-a-day  !  I  am  but  a  wretched  woman.  Every 
thing  in  life  deceives  me.  Every  plan  I  make  fails.  My 
lovers  adore  and  then  leave  me.  My  father  has  so  small  a 
sense  of  what  I  have  done  for  him  that  I  have  the  heart 
ache  for  it.  Failure  is  writ  all  over  my  life.  I  wish  I 
had  been  born  good,  for  the  Devil  is  a  cheat  of  all 
cheats.  I  have  been  mortified  beyond  all  endurance.  I 
have  lost  more  money  than  even  John  will  like,  and  my 
poor  head  is  in  a  sad  .taking  with  the  wine.  Nathaniel 
Kelder  kissing  the  king's  hand  !  Saint  Olivia  with  the 
king's  rose  at  her  breast !  Lord,  if  I  swear  a  little,  write 
me  innocent,  having  such  good  cause.  But  I  shall  tell 
John  to-morrow,  and  he  will  curse  them  all  for  me  !  " 

For  she  had  not  come  to  London  without  John.  He 
had  a  lodging  at  Greenwich  by  the  seaside,  and  there  he 


KELDEKBY  AA'D  SAA'DYS.  453 

sat  in  the  sunshine  and  heard  the  cries  of  the  sailors  and 
the  voice  of  the  ocean  once  more.  "  I  shall  tell  John 
to-morrow.  He  will  find  out  a  way.  Lord,  how  my 
head  aches  ! "  Then  she  bent  herself  toward  a  half- 
open  drawer,  and  took  from  it  a  soiled  pack  of  cards. 
She  shuffled  them  to  and  fro  a  few  times,  and  then,  with 
a  slow  and  vicious  hatred,  tore  them,  one  by  one,  to 
pieces.  "  You,  too,  are  prophesying  liars.  A  plain  un 
doing  you  have  been  to  me.  What  devil  is  behind  you  ?  " 
So  she  sat  musing  until  sleep  mastered  her,  and,  only 
half  undressed,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed. 

But  in  the  sinful  and  tragic  events  of  the  last  four  years 
she  had  lost  the  aptitude  for  that  deep,  animal-like  sleep 
which  had  once  made  her  so  cruelly  riant  in  her  perfect 
health  and  perfect  spirits.  She  could  not  escape  the  cha 
grin  of  her  position.  The  phantasmagoria  of  the  White 
hall,  with  its  gamblers  and  drinkers,  its  clinking  of  gold, 
and  its  murmur  of  song  that  no  one  listened  to,  troubled 
her  consciousness,  and  made  her  frequently  start  with 
that  cry  of  mortification  and  that  catch  in  i£s  expression 
which  denotes  the  extremity  of  painful  vexation.  Her 
lovely  flushed  face  amid  the  scattered  hair  of  sleep,  her 
white  arms  flung  upward,  her  white  bosom  troubled  with 
her  restless  breathing,  showed  that  her  soul,  left  without 
excuses,  was  wandering  in  those  halls  of  remorseful 
memory  in  which  the  wisest  of  all  sacred  seers  saw  the 
sleeping  wicked  vexed. 

The  unhappy  incident  did  not  much  disturb  either  the 
Stricklands  or  the  Kelders.  They  went  from  the  palace 
to  Strickland's  lodging  and  talked  about  it  a  little,  and  so 
rubbed  the  slight  annoyance  away.  For  both  felt  that 
they  had  received  that  favour  which  kings  give  to  men 
whom  they  delight  to  honour,  and  from  Nathaniel's  heart 
there  had  dropped,  even  at  the  king's  feet,  that  heavy 


454  FRIEND   OLIVIA. 

load  of  apprehension  concerning  his  estate  which  he  had 
so  long  carried. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  Nathaniel  and  Olivia 
reached  their  own  inn.  There  was  a  large  letter  on  the 
table,  and  Nathaniel  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  direction 
was  in  his  mother's  writing.  He  lifted  it  with  a  slight  fear 
of  annoyance,  but  the  first  words  dispelled  his  anxiety. 

FOR    MY   BELOVED   CHILDREN,   NATHANIEL  AND   OLIVIA 
KELDER  —  THESE  : 

DEAR  ONES,  —  If  you  will  be  pleased  to  know  that  I 
wish  you  with  me,  't  is  a  satisfaction  you  may  perpetually 
have.  There  is  great  and  good  news,  and  I  am  so  little  sel 
fish  that  I  will  not  keep  it  for  my  own  delivery,  but  at  once 
add  it  to  the  joy  of  your  bridal.  Mistress  Mettelane  came 
here  two  days  ago  at  my  own  invitation,  and  never  was  I 
more  pleased  with  myself  for  a  kindness;  for  truly  she  hath 
astonished  us  all  with  her  excellence  and  her  generosity.  I 
had  indeed  made  such  preparation  for  your  comfort  in  Kel- 
derby  as  our  means  and  the  house  permitted  ;  but  she  has  far 
outdone  all,  having  brought  with  her  the  vellums  securing 
to  you  and  yours  the  house  and  estate  of  Sandys.  And,  to 
be  plain-hearted  with  you,  I  went  there  this  day,  and  with 
Mistress  Mettelane  put  into  place  all  the  silver  and  linen  and 
ornaments  which  had  been  taken  away  for  safe  keeping,  but 
brought  back  with  such  good  intent  as  I  cannot  but  honour 
and  join  in.  Jane  D'Acre  was  also  there,  busying  herself 
about  filling  the  posy  bowls  with  holly  and  wood-berries  and 
house  roses,  and  hanging  the  pots  of  sweet  musk,  which  she 
saith  Olivia  dearly  lovetli.  So  then,  if  God  is  willing,  you 
are  coming  to  as  fine  a  home  as  any  in  England.  But  both 
houses  are  ready  to  entertain  you ;  and  if  you  come  first  to 
Kelderby,  we  shall  take  the  daylight  with  us  some  bright 
morning,  and  father  and  mother  and  aunt  and  neighbours  put 
you  safe  inside  the  portals  of  Seat  Sandys.  And,  as  Mistress 
Mettelane  said,  may  God  make  your  home  there  until  your 
father  and  I  have  seen  the  twentieth  Odinel  Kelder  of  full 
age  and  worthy  of  his  name.  As  you  know,  I  am  but  a  poor 


KELDERBY  AND  SANDYS,  455 

scribe,  and  I  write  now  in  such  haste  and  excitement  as 
cannot  satisfy  myself,  nor  express  my  thoughts  as  I  mean 
them ;  and  if  I  did,  I  should  have  more  to  say  to  you  than 
this  paper  would  hold.  Dears,  shall  we  not  be  very  happy? 
Indeed,  I  think  the  promise  of  it  infinitely  above  what  1  can 
deserve,  and  more  than  God  Almighty  usually  allots  to  the 
very  best  of  people.  Pray  have  a  care  of  your  healths.  I 
would  fain  say  more,  and  yet  it  would  only  be  saying  with 
more  circumstance  that  I  rest  to  each  of  you  a  loving 
mother. 

JOAN  KELDER. 

They  read  this  letter  together  twice  over ;  and  smiles, 
and  little  laughs,  and  sweet  asides,  and  sweeter  kisses  in 
terpreted  it.  And  then  Nathaniel  drew  his  wife  close  to 
his  side.  For  a  few  moments  they  made  a  still  picture 
of  wondrous  beauty,  —  Nathaniel's  stately  figure  in  the 
sombre  richness  of  his  velvet  habit,  Olivia's  slender  form 
in  the  pearly  splendour  of  her  white  satin  robe ;  the  mas 
culine  beauty  of  one  bending  face  luminous  with  love, 
the  feminine  beauty  of  the  other  lifted  face,  transfigured, 
speechless,  yet  saying  things  unutterable,  —  the  spiritual 
woman  making  sweet  the  mortal  woman. 

Nathaniel  kissed  the  words  upon  her  lips,  and  then, 
with  a  sigh  of  deep  content,  said  softly,  "  Many  blessings 
are  ours,  dear  heart,  and  many  others  are  sought  for  us ; 
but  tell  me,  in  thy  judgment,  which  is  best  of  all?  "  And 
she  laid  her  cheek  against  his,  and  put  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  and  whispered  between  her  kisses,  "  Beloved  ! 
that  we  may  receive  the  great  grace  of  our  bridal  prayer, 
—  'Mercifully  ordain  that  we  may  grow  old  together.'  " 


THE  END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-32m-8,'58(5876s4)444 


_UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LBRABY  FAC 
I   II    III    III        II  I   ii 


A    001372340 


